Lifesaving
by Greened Ink
Summary: AU- They had a deal. Jane agreed to take the diamonds off the old lady, and his father let him attend the last six months of public school. He just hadn't known quite what that would entail. Lisbon/Jane in high school. A bit of Rigsby/Van Pelt and Cho/Summer too.
1. A New Step

Author's Note:

Ok, cheesy, I know, but I just couldn't help myself. And yeah, it's a high school fic, so sue me. Or actually don't, cause I'm poor and don't own these characters.

Patrick Jane, at the seasoned age of sixteen, stepped out of the car hesitantly for his first day of school. Sure, the Carnival where he had grown up had its own version of school, but this was to be his first day of _public_ school.

He was nervous.

No, he was way _beyond_ nervous.

Now that he was standing outside the monolithic three story building, with talking kids at or around his own age chatting in small, tightly formed groups, he had the sudden urge to turn around and get back in the car. It took all his courage to swallow down his fear, sling his bag over one shoulder, and finally close the door behind him. He leaned down on the car door, where the glass had long been broken out and peered back into the vehicle.

"Thanks for the ride, Annie."

The woman within, with an impressive red beard stretching down her chest, gave him a wide smile. "Any time, sugar."

With one last pat given to the beat-up old door, Jane watched her take off down the busy street, honking once as a car impeded her forward movement before turning the corner out of sight.

Leaving him alone.

He took a deep, calming breath, trying to control his erratic heart beat. He could do this. He could. It was merely a matter of getting his bearings. He knew how to work a crowd, he just needed to understand the crowd first. He looked around at the other kids, a couple of whom eyed him for a minute before turning away back to their friends.

Unfortunately, his interactions with kids his own age had so far consisted of handing out ten cent prizes for fifty cent games and taking wads from unsuspecting teenagers. Though handy, he didn't think the skill would help him much in this situation. His new 'classmates' probably wouldn't appreciate it.

While Jane was trying to sum up the gumption to propel himself forward, something slammed into his shoulder and did it for him. He just barely managed to keep his feet under him and keep his face from being planted in the dirt.

"Watch it, man." A voice barked at him, as ratty, hole-ridden shoes hurried past.

Jane looked up.

A boy maybe a year or two his junior was rushing past, shaggy black hair almost hiding the passing flash of blue-green eyes.

"Sorry." Jane mumbled, shrugging it off. He readjusted his pack and started to walk into the school.


	2. Geometry

Author's Note: Jumping right into it.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist and would not be foolish enough to claim to.

"107, 107..." Jane murmured, staring down at the piece of paper in his hand and then squinting around at the nearby classroom doors. 104, 106- He turned about. All evens. Where the heck were the odds? "'xcuse me?" He stopped a passing grown-up in the otherwise empty hallway with a hand on his arm.

The teacher was slightly balding, with a bit of a paunch but an air of authority and humor about him.

"107?" Jane questioned, gesturing around them.

"Wrong hall, kid. Go back to the intersection and take a right." The teacher pointed a thumb back the way that he had come from.

"Thanks...uh-"

"Minnelli." The man said succinctly, nodding at Jane to get along.

"Thank you, Mr. Minnelli." Jane said effusively, earning himself a rather gruff half-smile before the principal turned away. He grinned and started hurrying the other way. The man didn't fool him for a second. Giant teddy-bear, for sure.

His sneakers squeaked against the tile as he hurried down the hall, took the needed right hand turn and sped to the door clearly marked with the numbers one, zero, and seven. He pulled the door open and stepped inside.

The first class on his schedule was Geometry, but for all the noise that seemed to come out of nowhere and hit him like a bus, it might as well have been a zoo. Kids were throwing stuff at each other and talking loudly. A few near the back were just laid back, as though they didn't care one way or another if people were loud or not, they would still be doing the exact same thing. There were two that were reading and one that looked like he was trying to do last nights homework in the time it would take for the teacher to start teaching. Class hadn't quite begun, though Jane knew he had missed the beginning bell.

Apparently the teacher was having trouble getting the class to come to order.

No wonder though. The teacher, Mr. Wainwright, looked like he wasn't any older than they were and it was obviously his first year teaching based on his ignored attempts to get the students attention. Jane apparently served well as the needed distraction. The loudest of the kids were just starting to notice him. In the lull that his appearance created, the teacher took control. "Quiet down now, kids, we have a new student starting with us today." The man smiled tightly. "Mr. Patrick Jane, your assigned seat will be right here." Wainwright gestured at an empty seat near the middle.

Without question, Jane took it. He knew he needed to stay slumped, to blend in. No need to draw attention to himself on the first day. He needed to suss out the general population first. While the teacher continued to talk, calling for the previous night's homework, he took the time to covertly study his new classmates. After all, these were most of the kids in his year- the ones he would be seeing the most of for the next six months or so.

The boy sitting to his right was obviously a jock. Football and wrestling based on his physique. His brown hair was cropped very short, but still managed to spike straight up at the top. His jersey said RIGSBY in bold letters. He was the one frantically trying to finish his homework before it was pried from his hand.

The girl in front of him was a curly dark-blonde who continually kept trying to get a good look at him, no doubt attempting to assess his future status in the high school pecking order.

The girl to his left had bright red hair that was carefully pinned back from her face with bright butterfly clips. When he had passed her, she had smiled sweetly at him, so he guessed she was the 'nice girl' sort. She was paying close attention to the teacher too, so he also guessed she was a bit of a goody two-shoes. Almost everything about her screamed 'easy mark'.

He tried to peak over his shoulder behind him, but suddenly, he had to sit up a little straighter. Not because he was paying attention to Wainwright, but because a foot had shifted at the back of his seat, leaning through the square hole there into his spine. He leaned forward onto one arm on his desk to get away from the protrusion, pretending to be studying the things carved into his desk. Then, carefully, he glanced back.

All he could see was wavy, dark black hair. A girl, but she was leaning over for something in her bag so he couldn't quite garner anything else. When she sat back up, he looked forward again so that she wouldn't know he had been looking at her. The change in her position eased the pressure off his back. Though he could still feel the presence of her foot, like an added weight, it wasn't doing any harm. It was a little annoying when she moved, but otherwise, it was kind of- nice.

The girl in front turned to hand a stack of papers back to him, flashing a smile obviously meant to put him at ease, but all it did was make him wary. It was a false smile. He knew, because he wore it often enough himself now to be able to tell.

However, he felt a little better when he took the worksheet off the top of the pile and was able to turn, hoping to use the opportunity to get a better look at the girl behind him. He liked to actually see the people he was going to be interacting with.

She was leaning back as far as she could in her chair though, with her dark hair covering most of her face, and didn't even look up his way. All he was able to see was a smattering of freckles across pale skin in the gap between her hair, dark fingernails and an old jean jacket with holes before she took the papers and he had to turn around again or risk openly staring at her. Her lack of eye-contact intrigued him, but there was in no rush to this.

It was hard to get a good look behind him, but Jane could see to his right, behind the jock- a girl with pink crimped hair and a sucker in her mouth. She was speaking quietly with a stony faced Asian kid- Korean origins by the look of him- behind her, completely ignoring the teacher.

Jane looked to his back left.

The boy sitting there had dark brown skin and a lazy smile as he tried to talk to the other boy behind him, who had light brown hair and was wearing some kind of twisted smirk.

Jane turned back to face the front. Forward right was another jock, this one with even shorter and darker brown hair than the first.

Forward left was a girl with straight, light blonde hair streaked with blue.

The red-head's hand shot straight up in the air.

Wainwright called her "Miss Van Pelt" and when she answered his question right, he gave her an encouraging smile.

"Kiss-ass." Someone in front coughed.

Instantly, the foot left the back of his seat and Jane shifted uncomfortably at its absence. "Shut it, Rebecca." Was snarled into the air. She sounded serious and dangerous.

The girl up front, with a bob of black hair framing a square face, sneered but turned around quietly none-the-less.

"Now, none of that." Wainwright sounded sharply, but once again, Jane had stopped listening to him.

Beside him, Van Pelt ducked her head to look back and gave a hesitant, grateful smile to the girl seated behind him.

The foot returned to his back.

He couldn't help but wonder if the girl behind him was wearing a smug expression or not. In fact, he couldn't help but wonder about her in general. He liked secrets- mainly because he liked being the one to bring them to light. Was she the protective type? Was there a connection between the two girls, or was she protective of everyone? Was it because she particularly disliked this 'Rebecca' character? Either way, it bared further examination.

Jane grinned.

He couldn't wait to get started.


	3. Art Class

Author's Note: I'm probably never going to write a class that Jane doesn't share with Lisbon. :) It would bore me too much. That said, Jane might seem a little OOC, but he's a teenager. As is Lisbon. They're gonna be different than their adult selves. And yes, I realize Wainwright is younger than them in the show. Just wait. You'll probably get what I'm doing soon. If not, you can point out your concerns again later.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist and would not be foolish enough to claim to.

Jane stepped into the classroom amid bustle and scuffle, as the other students hurried to their workstations and started pulling things out. He was far more sedate in his approach, looking for the teacher as he sat before an empty easel and wondered what on earth he was supposed to do.

Of all the classes he was taking, third period Art was definitely the one that was making him the most nervous. He had needed an elective, and while he knew how to play a mean tuba background for a rather amusing knife-throwing trick, most of his musical skill stopped at appreciation. His singing voice wasn't bad, granted, but it wasn't that great either, at least not in his opinion.

He looked the white stretch of paper before him up and down almost suspiciously.

It was far too elusive for his comfort. It sat there, lying to him, taunting him that it wouldn't be as hard as all that. However, he had tried his hand at drawing before. What had been intended to be a picture of a dog had morphed into something resembling an upside-down airplane.

"Alright, get out your charcoal, we're gonna keep going with the section on shading till Mrs. Frye gets here."

Jane turned, recognizing the voice but unsure why at first. Then he froze.

It was the girl from his first period, the one that sat behind him.

Even if he hadn't been able to tell by the way her hair fell in front of her face to hide it, he would recognize that jean jacket and the same hole-ridden black shoes anywhere. Slowly, he turned his head down so he could look out of his eyelashes without anyone noticing. Then he couldn't help but stare, since he could.

She was short. Far shorter than he had first supposed, but compact too, in a way that made her seem taller than she actually was. It looked like she had more muscle than he ever would despite the difference in their size. Old jeans with holes worn in them stretched her slim legs and her fingers were jammed into the pockets. One hand in front, the other in a back pocket, which made him raise an eyebrow. Interesting. He followed her form upward. Because her dark hair was still mostly covering her face, he still couldn't see her eyes. She talked from her chest, slightly curled in on herself, as though she was disgruntled about having to even be here. Or like she was bored.

When Jane finally realized he had begun staring too openly, he raised his hand to cover himself.

"Yeah, what?" The girl had glanced at him, but turned away quickly to gather something in the front corner of the room near the teacher's desk.

She was too fast for him to spy her eyes. "Uh, I'm new." Was all he could think to say. Why was he feeling so tongue-tied? This was ridiculous. He swallowed forcefully to regain the use of speech.

"Yeah." She didn't turn back to him but waved carelessly at the far wall, where half was large windows looking out on the schools fields and the other large cupboards. "Supplies are in the cupboards. Help yourself. The teacher will be here soon."

He stumbled a little to his feet and could only hope she hadn't noticed. "Um, are you like the class leader?" He asked sociably as he began to search the cupboards. She hadn't specified which one.

"TA." She grunted succinctly. Then she summarily ended the discussion by putting large headphones on her ears and turning on the stereo by the teachers desk.

Jane sighed and pulled out a large pail with bits of dark charcoal sticks inside. So help him, he was going to get that girl to look at him if it took him the rest of the school year. He sighed, shook the pail and pulled out a reasonably sized piece. It was soft in his palm as he moved back to his paper. Maybe he just wasn't used to being ignored by young ladies. He was handsome, cute even, he had been told and that was usually enough to at least garner an inspection. Perhaps that was why her lack of direct eye contact was irking him so much. He looked at her again out of the corner of his eye.

She was nodding her head to the music blaring through the headphones, her piece of charcoal moving over the paper almost carelessly.

Almost unconsciously, he mirrored her movements. At least he was good at that. He didn't look at his paper once, knowing that would spoil his concentration. When she jerk her shoulder up, he did the same, trying to make the charcoal flow like she was.

The classroom door opened.

A curly haired, pretty woman came inside, not garnering a single odd look as she set her bag on the teachers table. She must be Mrs. Frye.

The girl pulled on earphone off her head to speak quietly with the woman for a moment, tilting her head in his direction minutely.

The teacher nodded, smiled at the girl's paper, and made her way over to him.

He had long since stopped emulating the girl TA and instead struggled not to blush as Mrs. Frye came up behind him.

She stopped, a frown marring her almost fragile looking features. She looked back up front at her TA and then back at his paper.

Jane did the same. His didn't really look like anything to him yet, but the teacher seemed to see similarities. He hoped she wouldn't say anything.

Seeming to read his mind, she just smiled down at him softly, like she knew something he didn't and introduced herself. "Hello. I'm Mrs. Frye. You must be Patrick." She put a hand on his shoulder and he suddenly felt warm. Then she drew away, getting out a book and showing him where they were in their lessons. For the rest of the class, she kept an eye on both him and her TA, looking back and forth between their work.

He didn't directly mimic the girl again while under the teachers watchful gaze, but couldn't help himself at times. Whenever he caught himself at it, he would chance a peek at Mrs. Frye and find her with a mischievous smirk curling her lips.

Finally the bell rang and he finished cleaning his hands as the girl darted from the room. Up front, Mrs. Frye smiled and turned her TA's work around so that he could see it. Half-way across the room, his shared remarkable similarities. He felt both proud and a little embarrassed that he had been so easy for the art teacher to read. The girl's picture however, stole his attention away.

Where his was merely black charcoal, she had changed to a different color at some point. The medium was unfamiliar to him, unsurprisingly, but striking nonetheless. Red streaks filled out the charcoal's black holes, yellow highlighted the curves and a strange startling green dotted two points like gemstones.

Jane nodded his head at the teacher as she put the drawing away in the alcove marked merely 'TA' and gathered his things to head out to his next class.

Yet still, as he walked the crowded halls of the school, he couldn't help but wonder.

Who had the woman in the TA's drawing been?


	4. Lunch

Author's Note: Yes, I am making all the teachers characters from the show _as they are on the show_. Hence Wainwright looking not much older than them and Christina Frye being old enough to be their art teacher. I like to fiddle. :P

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist and would not be foolish enough to claim to.

Jane looked at the food before him questioningly. Was it edible? Cautiously, he poked it. Who on earth would eat something like this? He was used to fried food dipped in batter, greasy hamburgers, curled fries, or other brightly wrapped foodstuffs left over from a day of entertainment. Unhealthy, yes, but at least that fact was disguised from the obvious by bright colors and it was certainly not... whatever this thing was. The sign had said it was some kind of meat.

It was gray.

Still, he had wanted new experiences. He supposed this was what he got for being curious about high school. Carefully, and with much trepidation, he took a bite. For all that it looked disgusting, it didn't taste _that_ bad. Kind of like wax.

For a wild moment, he wondered if it was made from plastic.

As the thought tumbled through his head, he looked up and around at his surroundings again, still trying to take in the roiling chaos that was the school cafeteria. The hum of a hundred different conversations happening at once resonated in the background, along with some loud laughter, the clatter of silverware, trays and the movement of human bodies. It was one of the most fascinating things he had ever seen and he looked on with undisguised glee.

His peers had almost subconsciously divided into little groups, each with a somewhat similar dress, age, and conduct code. Their interactions and divisions seemed wholly motivated by the people around them. Jane had taken his time scoping out the scene before he had sat down in an unoccupied corner, trying to spot familiar faces that he had seen earlier in the day to anchor himself. He told himself he wasn't looking for anyone in particular.

She wasn't here anyway.

Either way, finding out which groups his classmates fit into might help provide a window into their motivations even outside said groups. There was the jock, Rigsby, from his first period off in the far right corner with his other football mates. He was talking animatedly with a girl Jane had seen in his second period, with long straight brown hair pulled back from her face by a headband. The red-head, Van Pelt, sat off to the side of the male jocks with other girls that were dressed not unlike the boys. She was probably the member of some kind of sports team. The curly dark-blonde who had sat in front of him was seated razor straight in a group of people who looked like cross-words were their cup of tea.

Jane did a little double-take as his roving eyes caught a newly arrived student added to the mix. Off to the side, seated all by himself, was the same boy from this morning who had almost knocked Jane on his face. The kid was wolfing down his food like it was going to disappear soon, keeping his head down and his eyes averted from anyone elses.

What was it with kids in this school and eye-contact? He had never encountered so many people so reluctant to add that level of trust to the people in their surroundings. There was something else about this boy however. The furtive looks, the food hording, the isolation- it all seemed to add up, but to what, Jane really couldn't tell yet.

On an unconscious whim, Jane grabbed up his food and made a beeline for the kids table.

"Mind if I sit here?"

Those blue-green eyes glanced up at his face, just barely avoiding his eyes by a few millimeters. "Whatever." He shrugged.

"Name's Jane." Jane introduced himself as he took a seat, using his last name almost out of habit.

"Jane? Isn't that a girl's name?"

Jane shrugged. "Patrick Jane, but I prefer my last name most days. What about you?"

The kid hesitated for a second too long, but eventually looked back at his food and mumbled. "James."

"Nice to meet you, James." Jane tried for extra cheerfulness and the kid responded by unhitching his shoulders just a hair more.

"You're new?"

"Just rolled into town. My dad found work." Well, of a sort anyway.

James nodded in an offhand way.

The loud noise of someone dropping their tray made them both whip around, but Jane was the first to recover. Which was why when he sat back, he was able to see a large bruise on the side of James' neck, stretching along his collar bone to disappear into his shirt. The pieces fell into place and Jane crinkled his nose a little.

Abuse.

Though, there was no way to tell what kind. Perhaps the kid had a problem with bullies.

Turning back around, James gave him a half-grin and he copied it instinctively so that the kid wouldn't feel ill at ease or know what he'd seen. They chatted harmlessly for the rest of the lunch hour, Jane avoiding any possibly sore subjects as tactfully as he could. The kid was nice, in a clumsy sort of way, once you got past the initial defensiveness. When it was time for classes again, they bade each other goodbye and headed their separate ways.

It was only once he was alone again that Jane began to wonder if he had just made his first friend at school.


	5. English

Author's Note: Yes, the last one was short and so is this one, but you get two in two days, so I hope I'm forgiven. Thank you for the reviews, favorites, and alerts!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist and would not be foolish enough to claim to.

With only a little difficulty, Jane found his class, English this time, and got inside before it had begun. Like most of his previous classes, there was a general murmur of chatter, but this one was far more subdued than the others had been. He wondered if it was the sedative effects of the questionable food for lunch until the teacher came in.

She was a lovely African-American woman, whose hair was pulled back in a tight bun. Clearly, she was the reason for the good behavior. There was an aura of stern disciple about her, belied by the kind half-smile she gave to the class as she set her things on the desk. He was intrigued immediately, hoping that she would be as good of a teacher as he suspected.

When she looked up and spotted him, that same kind smile that reached her eyes tilted the corners of her mouth. "You're the new kid, Patrick Jane, right? Madeleine Hightower. Pleasure to have you with us. Just take a seat anywhere, there about three empty ones to choose from."

"Thank you." Jane turned and spotted the unfilled desks. There was one in the far back corner, which he dismissed entirely. It looked like it was going to fall apart. One was off to the right and two more to the left near the windows.

He spied a flash of blazing red hair and automatically looked closer. It was the same girl from his first period, the really nice one, Van Pelt. She was in the third row back, right next to one of the two empty seats, so he made his way over to her. "These seats up for grabs?" He asked casually.

She looked up at him, a smile dimpling her cheek a little. "Uh, this ones taken." She gestured to the one right beside her. "But that ones not." Again a gesture, but this time to the one in front of the other, in the second row.

"Thanks." He smiled back at her and slid into the indicated seat.

"Okay everybody, take out your books, we're gonna be going over the fifth chapter today." Hightower came over and set a book on his desk. "Just try to follow along until you get the chance to catch up. Don't worry, I won't call on you."

He nodded and took up the book, not even glancing at the cover.

Just as Ms. Hightower got back to her desk and started to talk, the door opened.

He blinked at the blur of the familiar dark hair and hole-ridden jeans of the girl from both his first and third period classes coming in the door, bag slung over one shoulder, hurrying quickly in front of the teachers desk with single-minded determination.

"You're late." Hightower commented, but didn't stop her from rushing past.

No longer wearing her jeans jacket but just a white tee shirt, the girl all but ran past him and threw herself into the seat behind him.

In front, Ms. Hightower narrowed her eyes at the girl, but went back to speaking to the class about their assigned reading without further comment.

"How come you're late?"

Jane's ears perked up at Van Pelt's whispered words to the girl behind him, curious himself and hoping to hear her voice again.

"Just late." Was the the murmured reply and it remained the only answer the red-head was given.

Jane felt uncomfortable with the need to turn around for the first ten minutes of the lesson, but then a foot settled against the back of his chair and he felt almost instantly calmed. He remained aware of its presence until the bell rang and it disappeared. He stood up quickly, hoping to maybe 'accidentally' bump into the girl and finally get a glimpse of her eyes. He needed to satisfy this insane curiosity of his, before his hyper-awareness of this girl drove him crazy.

However, she didn't move any further from her seat then the initial shift to put her stuff away.

"I'd like a word." Hightower intoned toward the girl as the other students filed past, who must have been expecting it because she still hadn't moved an inch.

With a start, Jane realized the classroom was almost empty and he had no choice but to follow his other classmates from the room.

As casually as possible though, he leaned against the wall just outside and strained to listen.

"This is the third time this week you've been late." Hightower sounded cross, but there was also a hint of concern on just the edges of her voice. "What's going on?"

"Nothing." The girl's voice murmured.

"If it was nothing, I'd expect you to be on time." There was a laden pause, filled only with the slight scuffle of a shoe. "Is it your brothers again?"

More silence, this even heavier than the first.

Hightower sighed. "I want to help you. You know that. I want to understand. But I can't if you won't tell me anything."

Still nothing.

"Alright then. You show up late again, I'll have to report you to the office for detention. You're dismissed."

Jane didn't move as the door was roughly opened wider and the girl hurried past him. At the speed she was going, her hair left her face a little so that he could see one cheek with a tear sliding down it.

Suddenly, he felt guilty for eavesdropping. For wanting to know more about her.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and trudged off to his next class with a heavy weight on his shoulders.


	6. After School

Author's Note: I have no idea how far apart Lisbon and her brothers are in age, nor what her third brother's name is, or even anything about her third brother. So you'll have to bear with me as I make it up as I go along.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist and would not be foolish enough to claim to.

The bell rang to signify the end school, but Jane took his time collecting his things and heading out into the hall. His mind was occupied, and had been all afternoon, bound in a loop with only one central point- a small girl with long dark hair and an air of mystery that was driving his curiosity mad.

The after-school press was more chaotic then even lunch had been as he passed outside. He tried not to make a face. So many students trying to get out of the buildings all at once made him feel more claustrophobic than sunset at a packed carnival. He dodged out of the way of a rushing classmate and ended up on the sidewalk near the school's fenced in playing fields. It wasn't exactly the way he had intended to go, but it would take him away from the crowd. After all, he had a bit of a walk in front of him and a little detour wouldn't hurt.

He shifted his pack and started walking, taking his time, only noticing the sports teams training after school on the other side of the fence when a whistle blew loudly.

The football team was running drills. Back and forth they moved, trying to be quick with a mass of armor-like padding on. He watched the way that they switched and spun, only thinking how much it must hurt to be tackled by one of them. Rigsby was in the midst of hulking figures, slightly distracted from what he was trying to do and slipping up on the slick grass.

All Jane had to do was follow the jocks eyes and a slow smirk tilted the edge of his mouth.

Standing next to the red clay track encircling the edges of the field was the red-head, Van Pelt, stretching out her calf muscles and not noticing the attention at all. She was clad in running shorts and a jersey tee with her name in bold letters across the back just like Rigsby's. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a ponytail, making her dimpled smile all the more blazing.

Looking back at Rigsby, Jane saw him stumble yet again. The coach, a man with the name Bertram on his back, had noticed though, and taken to yelling at him to get a move on.

Jane almost tsked aloud.

He had it bad, poor kid.

By this time, Jane's slower steps had carried him to the gap in the fencing that allowed entry into the field beyond. There, he froze.

A girl stood next to the risers, leaning forward over her bent knee, tying her shoe with her foot braced against the bench of the lowest seat.

He would recognize that figure anywhere.

It was her. The girl that had taken to haunting his thoughts, the one who avoided looking into his- or really anyone's- eyes. Her dark hair had been pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck now but because she was turned away from him, he still couldn't see her eyes. She had traded her old, hole-ridden jeans for a pair of running shorts- her tight, white tee exchanged for one exactly like Van Pelt's, only with a different name printed across her shoulder-blades.

LISBON

Slowly, Jane took a few steps into the field, not taking his eyes off her while still trying to be discreet.

So- he had discovered the connection between Lisbon and Van Pelt. They were both on the track team. With a start, Jane realized it was the first time he'd seen or heard the girl's name too. It made him stop staring and instead turn his thoughts inward to wonder why he hadn't really needed her name till now, hadn't sought it out, and was shocked to find he had been able to recognize her merely by the way she moved, by the way she breathed. He hadn't needed a name. She was... Her. The girl with the concealing dark hair and a fierceness he could feel a mile away tracing a chill up his spine.

Thoughtfully, he shook his head at himself. Who had it bad?

Suddenly a young boy, maybe nine or ten years old, bounded across the bleachers toward her and showed her a piece of paper. By the flourished pen in his hand, he had just put something across the page and was trying to show off.

And then Lisbon was smiling, ruffling the kid's matching dark scruff of hair.

Jane tilted his head.

The kid was obviously her little brother and Lisbon was happy, smiling, but almost... frantically so. Like she was still hiding, just without the use of her hair. Her gaze was only meeting the boys for a few scattered seconds without latching on, obviously trying to keep the younger boy oblivious and smiling.

He made a face. Did she hide from everyone?

Lisbon sent the kid back to his seat in the bleachers with a gentle push and started jogging toward the rest of her teammates to warm up.

Jane watched the way she moved, entranced. It was different, with her arms curled close to her chest, but adorable. So it took all his considerable concentration to pull his eyes away and seize the opportunity presented to him. As stealthily as possible, he darted to the bleachers and looked over.

The boy was sitting on one of the benches half-way up, paper against a book pressed to his knees and backpack beside him. He was drawing again and tuned out to the rest of the world, so Jane spoke up before he could startle him.

"Hi."

The kid looked up and peered at him uncertainly. "Hello."

"I'm Patrick. What's your name?"

Squinting against the pale sun, the boy looked him up and down and then said in a quiet voice. "Tommy."

"Nice name." Jane hauled himself up on the bleachers and sat far enough away that he wouldn't make the boy uncomfortable. "So, you know her?" He nodded toward Lisbon.

Tommy glanced the way he had indicated, where his sister was stretching out. He then looked back at Jane. "Ye-ah." He said it questioningly.

"I'm betting she's your big sister, isn't she?"

The kid nodded reluctantly.

Jane decided honesty would get him farther than any lie. "Would you mind if I asked you something about her?" He was careful to keep his tone light.

Making a face, Tommy looked back at his sister. Then he did a little double-take and grinned mischievously. "You like her, don't you?"

"Me?" Jane shot back with mock incredulity. For flair he put his hand over his heart like he'd been mortally wounded.

The kid laughed at him. "You're kind of goofy, you know that? Why don't you just ask her?"

Jane shrugged. "I get the feeling your big sister is the kind of person you have to approach carefully. I don't want to make a horrible first impression."

Tommy looked pensive for a moment and then offered up a tidbit. "She loves jazz. And sports. Would that help you?"

Jazz? Huh. Grinning, Jane nodded. "It might." Then he looked around. "Your sister always pick you up and bring you here?"

"Just when she has practice." The kid returned to his drawing. "My school's just around the corner. She says if she left me alone, Andrew and I would tear the house apart."

"Andrew, is he your brother?"

"One of them." Tommy suddenly looked back at Jane with narrowed eyes. "You're gonna be nice to her right?"

Another protector. Jane smiled, wide and genuine. "I'd never do anything to hurt her."

After a moment of study, Tommy returned to his drawing again, seeming satisfied.

Off in the distance of the field, Jane could see the teacher from earlier in the day, Minnelli, ordering Lisbon and her team to break up for a run at the track. Time for his exit. "Well." He stood, brushed off his clothes and gave a little wave to Tommy. "It was a pleasure meeting you. Thanks for the pointers."

"Bye." The kid smiled.

Just as Jane got back down to the ground, he heard another whistle. He looked back just in time to see a blur sprinting by he barely even recognized as the girl he had been staring at. Geez, she was fast! Limbs spread out, lithe form eating up the ground like it was nothing at all, she moved in a completely different way from when she was jogging earlier. Like she had let go of everything, every care in the world she'd ever had and was free falling. She sped with fluid movement, fast as a high gale wind- It was awe-inspiring. When she got half-way down the track she slowed to a stop, chest heaving as she breathed hard and deep to catch her breath. Those she had run against were congratulating and praising her.

It took all he had to pull himself away and keep walking the path that he had been on. Every part of him wanted to stay, to watch her, to chance getting to see her eyes for once. But he had somewhere that he needed to be and not a lot of time now to get there. Instead, he just had to draw what consolation he could from the blesses easing of his prickly curiosity.

Because she liked jazz and sports. Because now he had a name to go with her fleeting image.

And because now he was more determined than ever that Miss Lisbon was going to look him in the eyes, one way or another.


	7. Hot tea and cold nights

Author's Note: Oooo! I love to mess with characters that aren't mine! :)

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist and would not be foolish enough to claim to.

"Here you are." Jane said softly, bending at the waist to hand a cup of tea on a delicate saucer to the old woman perched upon the settee.

Curly, white hair trembling slightly as she looked up, Mrs. Ruskin smiled at him with an almost dreamy air. "Thank you, dear."

Clearing his throat a little, Jane mixed his own cup quickly and sat in the high-backed chair across from her with forced nonchalance. He was getting better at this he noticed, as he took his first sip of steaming liquid and found it just hot enough to singe his tongue without scalding off his taste buds.

Once upon a time, he hadn't really cared for _any_ hot beverages, but living in this stuffy old mansion had slanted his style into making one exception. Tea was now officially his favorite. After all, there wasn't the bitter, burnt taste one often found in coffee, nor the fiery acidity of alcohol. Just sweet steeped leaves with a hint of sugar. He closed his eyes and took another, longer sip, letting it flood his senses to near oblivion.

It wasn't so bad here, Jane had to admit. Mrs. Ruskin was probably the nicest person he had ever met and though their posh surroundings were made for looks rather than comfort- from the elegant furnishings to the expensive artwork and tapestries on the walls- this wing of the mansion at least had a used, homey air about it.

And no wonder. Mrs. Ruskin had lived here her entire life with her husband and it was here among the old photographs and ancient books that she had raised her only daughter. Jane shook his head gently and took a longer swallow of tea. To have so much only to lose the most precious things by having them torn away from you. Death really was blind and deaf.

Looking over at his companion, he caught the old woman giving him a pleased, yet knowing kind of smile.

"Is there anything else you would like, Grandmother?" Jane asked politely, giving her a slanting smile to put her at ease.

She hummed contentedly and shook her head. "No, I think not." The teacup rattled, already empty, as she set it down and strained to rise on age weakened legs.

Jane hurried to help her, but as soon as she was relatively upright she pushed him away.

"Now now, don't fuss." She smiled widely, softening her rebuke to a mere tease. "I may be older than the firmament, but that doesn't mean I'm daft. I know a young man your age has better things to do with his time than to wait around for his ailing grandmother to go to bed, so I'll just see myself off and bid you goodnight."

Returning her smile, Jane kissed her cheek. "Goodnight, Grandmother."

"Don't stay up too late listening to your music again, alright?"

"I won't." Jane laughed.

When she had left the room and the settled silence had stretched on for almost ten minutes, Jane finally gathered the tea tray and took it to the kitchens. The maid and cook were out for the day, since they were only really needed part-time and it was late besides, so Jane rinsed the china clean and set it to dry before heading off to his room. Once inside, he calmly selected a record, flipped open the lid on Mrs. Ruskin's old gramophone, and set the needle to play.

The first notes of Rachmaninoff's 2nd filled the still air and Jane took a second to listen and wait so that he could fully appreciate the curving addition of the Orchestra to the deep melody. Jane sighed. It really was a beautiful piece and one of his favorite's, but he didn't have the time to simply lay down and listen right now. There was something he needed to do.

Padding over to the window, Jane eased it open and with slow, quiet movements he slid his legs out feet first, finding purchase on the ground below before ducking his head down and through to follow. Once free, he inched the window closed again, wincing whenever it gave a particularly hard screech that made his stomach squirm. This was why he disliked old buildings. If he wasn't careful, he was going to alert Mrs. Ruskin to his absence. The woman was ninety-six years old but still had the hearing of a fox and the intelligence to match. She was a tough old bird, he'd give her that. Had outlived her beloved husband by almost three years now. Pretending to be her grandson wasn't as hard as pretending he was a picture perfect teenager though. She was practically blind and lonely enough now as she slipped into the last stages of her life that she seemed all too eager to be deluded on that topic.

At last able to move without having to sneak, Jane sped up his steps to a light trot across the well-manicured lawns and through a hidden gap in the hedge and fencing out onto the street beyond. This neighborhood was quiet and abandoned at this time of night, homes just as fancy as Mrs. Ruskin's already dark and sleeping. He stuck his hands in his pockets and peered around to make sure no one was about before moving off. Walking calmly now through the shadows, he let the peaceful, open air outside under the stars sooth him into a kind of haze as he walked, steps taking him block after block farther from the mansion where he had been staying.


	8. In Deep

Author's Note: More for you wonderful people and your words of encouragement.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist and would not be foolish enough to claim to.

Cracks started to appear in the asphalt of the streets beneath his feet. Lights illuminating far past the homes in which they were lit to create shadows on the sidewalks. Chain-link fencing took the place of wrought iron and voices could be heard from inside small homes, occasionally laughing or shouting loud enough to be heard on the street. As Jane continued to walk, the homes got smaller and in far worse repair, the lights less frequent and the litter more prevalent.

Gone were the clean streets, posh front gardens and tall gates of Mrs. Ruskin's community, replaced with unmown lawns, junk cars parked in driveways, and houses peeling their layers of paint. Dogs barked ferociously, cats flitted in the shadows and a pounding music was coming from some few streets away. A siren blared on the next block just as he passed from a residential district into a street lit with signs and bright windows. Sketchy groups of people milled about on street corners and tucked in alleyways, people Jane was being very careful to avoid without making it obvious that he was doing so.

He walked another couple of blocks before at long last he spotted the convenience store he'd scoped out earlier on the corner and headed straight for it, cutting across a parking lot. As he passed what was obviously a bar set back from the road a ways, he glanced over and suddenly found his steps faltering till he came to a complete stop.

It couldn't be. The chances were too outlandish.

But it was.

It was her- Lisbon.

She had changed back into her normal clothes again, only this time with a leather jacket instead of the jeans one. She was sitting on the bench of a beat up old picnic table not far in front of the bar, feet propped on another bench, leaning back with her arms tucked behind her and elbows settled casually on the table top.

Next to her on the right was another girl, pink hair pulled back into a tight bun, gum bubbles popping noisily, marker in hand drawing on Lisbon's jeans. To her left was a familiar, dark Asian kid that looked as though a rock might lose to him in a staring contest.

Eyes narrowed thoughtfully, Jane had to ponder for a moment before he realized where it was that he had seen the other two before, almost snapping his fingers when it finally came to him. They had been in his first period Geometry as well, beside and behind Lisbon. So they knew each other outside of school? He wondered how, struck once again with that same almost blinding need to learn everything there was to know about his mystery girl. It seemed where Lisbon was concerned, his curiosity was endless. Which could be a problem, especially considering how relentless he usually was.

As carefully as possible Jane sidled into the darker shadows, trying to keep moving so that he could study them without making it glaringly obvious that he was outright staring. The boy beside her was sitting in an almost identical position as Lisbon, steely, disaffected gaze watched passersby like a hawk, almost as if he was waiting for something to show up in front of him. He seemed to take in everything around him with a single glance, while at the same time looking like he wasn't hearing a word of what the pink-haired girl was saying as she talked with Lisbon. His black leather jacket and calm exterior spoke bad boy even louder than the knife he was fiddling with in one hand, so Jane wasn't surprised. And on the kid's wrist, just on the visible side of his cuff, was a small tattoo.

Hmmm. Jane tilted his head. Gang affiliations? Here? What sort, he wondered. Maybe a motorcycle gang? Car theft ring? Or perhaps it was more serious than that.

Either way, the girls next to him didn't seem concerned.

Jane filed the information away for later consideration, drawing even closer to them, and turned his concentration on the girl to Lisbon's right. She was still drawing on the side of Lisbon's thigh, chatting and popping bubbles. The way that she held herself though, he couldn't help the thought that she was... damaged. She seemed nice enough though. Maybe a little cruel when she was displeased, based off the flinty, slight frown she was now directing at the boy, but alright nonetheless.

He got still closer, not even realizing he had left the shadows behind till he returned his gaze to what he was really interested in and almost took a step back out of sheer surprise.

Light, emerald green eyes were peering back at him, almost shining in the lone light on the side of the building. After an entire day of avoidance, of hiding, of the most annoying mysteriousness Jane had ever encountered, Lisbon's hair was now tucked back behind her ears out of the way, so that there wasn't so much as a shadow to hide her.

She was about his age he guessed, maybe a little older, it was hard to tell. Her body language bespoke a stereotypical disgruntled teen bored with the world in general, but her eyes... he saw there both startling clarity and a seething pain. As if the way she had been hiding behind her hair and unconcernedly letting her friend draw on her pants was just a mask for someone who knew too much of the world, too early. She was obviously intelligent and the coiled strength he could feel rolling off her was impressive.

He was so captivated that it was a long, drawn out moment before he realized that the darkness lingering around one of her cheeks wasn't a shadow. She had a black eye and he couldn't help but wonder if that was why she had been hiding behind her hair all day. He knew he was staring openly now and he knew that he should stop, but Lisbon wasn't looking away either. She was just staring silently up at him, expression neither bored, nor confused. She didn't even seem that inquisitive, just meeting his eyes as he was meeting hers. Neither of them faltered or deviated. They might have stayed that way forever, but the scary guy next to her had noticed him by that point.

He nudged Lisbon in the shoulder and broke the moment. "You know him?"

The green eyes glanced away at the young man and Jane felt as though he had been released from a iron strong grip, pulling much needed oxygen into previously stilled lungs.

She shook her head. "Neh." It was said carelessly, with a shrug. Like they hadn't just had the equivalent of a staring contest.

Suddenly a loud noise from the direction of the bar caught their attention and they all turned as one to look. Loud music and the noise of voices and laughter came out into the dark parking lot, followed by dark-haired man with a stubble of beard. He stumbled from the door, drunk and yelling back at the people inside as he left the establishment.

Unconsciously, Jane wrinkled his nose slightly at the smell that accompanied him. He was about to turn away back to his peers when he felt someone brush past him. He caught a glimpse of dark hair before doing a double-take.

Hurrying forward, Lisbon caught the man just as he released the door so that he didn't end up flat on his face on the asphalt without support.

"Wassat?" The man looked down, head swimming in small circles as he tried to focus. Finally, face mere inches away from Lisbon's, he grinned. "Is my girl. Hmmm, my good girl." He patted Lisbon's cheek.

"Yeah, Dad." She sounded so sad as she replied. "It's me."

Jane swallowed. All of a sudden he felt that horrible weight again, as though he was looking in on a private moment he should leave alone. He couldn't begin to make himself walk away though.

"S'ookay. Ima make it hum fine on by myself." The man slurred, still with the grin plastered on his face. He tried to push back and stagger away, but Lisbon kept a firm grip on the arm she'd slung over her shoulder, preventing him.

"Uh huh. Sure ya can." She grunted amicably, taking most of his weight as he swung awkwardly forward again on his tipsy feet.

"Ima fire-figher, ya lippy-"

"Ex-firefighter, Dad." Lisbon cut off his angry retort. She felt around in his pocket while holding him up and pulled out a set of keys. "Come on. Let's go. Car's over here."

"See ya, Lis." The pink-haired girl shot her way, curling up closer to the guy with her legs over his lap.

The guy draped a hand over her knees.

"Bye Summer. Cho." Lisbon huffed, maneuvering the two-hundred something pound man in the right direction with practiced ease.

She must have to do this often.

Cho, the guy, raised a hand and gave her a bit of a salute in farewell.

Finally finding his ability to control his limbs again, Jane stepped forward and caught the man's other arm.

Green eyes flashed to him, looking confused, but then Lisbon gave a small, halfhearted shrug and didn't comment.

He helped her support her drunken father all the way to their car and Lisbon struggled to open the back door while holding up her father, who seemed to be getting closer and closer to the passing out stage of drunk. At last, they were able to dump him in the back seat, where he promptly began to snore.

Lisbon shut him in. "Thanks." It was mumbled toward the ground but he still heard it.

Jane stepped back a little to give her space but stopped when her eyes found his again.

Without looking away, she stepped forward to pull the driver's door open. Then, with one arm slung over the roof of the car to support her casual lean, she gave him a tiny tilt of her mouth. It was a little self-deprecating, but also accepting. Like she had done this enough times now that it didn't really embarrass her anymore. "See ya-..."

It took a second, but Jane found his voice buried somewhere deep down. "Jane. Patrick Jane." There was that tongue-tied feeling again. And why had he given her his first name? It was the number one rule of the con, never give anyone more information about you than they needed to believe the lie.

But a large, dimpled smile split Lisbon's face, making her eyes twinkle like stars as she laughed and all at once Jane felt his stomach drop and his face go slack. Suddenly, he didn't care if his tongue worked or not- he would gladly _fake_ being tongue-tied just to get her to smile like that all the time.

"Goodbye, Jane- Patrick Jane." With that, Lisbon slid into the driver's seat still chuckling, closed the door, started up the car and drove away.

Jane lingered long after the car had vanished from sight, feeling a little punch drunk.

What had just happened?

"I'd watch it if I were you, new guy." Summer purred his way.

Turning toward her, Jane shook himself and lifted an amused eyebrow. "Oh? And why's that?"

"That girl'll break your heart." She wore a knowing smile, but with the way she spoke, Jane wondered if it wasn't just an act she was putting on. He knew all about those. "Besides, she's already got a guy trying to steal her away and he's totally loaded like you wouldn't believe."

"I'm not that bad off myself." Jane grinned. He definitely liked this girl's spunk. "Besides, I like a challenge."

"Lisbon's more than a challenge." Cho deadpanned.

All Jane could do was shrug. He didn't even bother to try to convince Lisbon's friends that he wasn't interested in her that way. Because as of five minutes ago, he was caught- hook, line and sinker.

Summer was looking him up and down, but then she smirked. "You're cute, so- good luck."

Jane just nodded and turned to leave, but something was bothering him, so he hesitated. Perhaps they could tell him. "You're her friends, so can I ask you something?"

"Can ask anything you want, doesn't mean we'll answer." Did this guy know any inflection but monotone?

Jane frowned and thought about it for a second. Based on their expressions, he best stick with the less threatening question on his mind. "Her first name?"

Cho and Summer exchanged a look.

"I wouldn't call her by her first name, pal." Summer warned.

Jane quirked an eyebrow again. "How come?"

"Her mother named her." Was the only reply, which they both seemed to think was enough of an explanation.

So rather than suss out the reasoning, Jane just thanked them and started heading for the convenience store again. He tucked his hands back in his pockets, thoughts only on Lisbon. He pondered what her little brother Tommy had told him. How he might have been home alone if he hadn't been waiting for her on the bleachers.

There were a few possibilities with that scenario. The fact that Lisbon's father wasn't really much help was obvious now, but the others were that Lisbon's mom was a working mother, for instance. Perhaps she had a few jobs that she worked during the day, so that Lisbon was the one looking after her brothers.

But now Summer's warning cast a completely different pall over his thoughts. And the only thing he could think of that fit the warning tone, was that her mother was gone. Dead or disappeared, most likely.

Suppressing a shiver, Jane ducked under the eave of the convenience store and grabbed up the receiver of a pay phone. He paid and dialed, and when the ringing was answered, he succinctly filled the voice on the other end in on his progress.

"So you haven't got them yet?" Was growled down the line.

"I'm close." Jane answered.

"Well hurry up. We had a deal. Don't go getting cold feet on me now."

"I got it." Jane grated. Before there was a response, he turned and hung up the phone.

The entire walk back to Mrs. Ruskin's, Jane let his thoughts center around one dark-haired, green-eyed young woman. In fact, he actually felt a little better, if still restless, by the time he slipped back in the window and pulled the unmoving needle off the side of the record before putting it away. He then tiredly pulled off his coat, tugged off his shirt at the same time as he toed off his shoes and then fell into the blissfully soft bed.

Stilling his whirlwind of thoughts, he let himself drift off, dreaming of her eyes.


	9. One and One make Two

Author's Note: Thanks for the interest and reviews! You guys are so encouraging. Nice to know people are reading.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist and would not be foolish enough to claim to.

In first period Geometry the next day, Jane was aware of her the second she walked in the door.

Lisbon had her hair back over her face, hiding the bruise he knew stretched over the inner part of her left eye. Her hands were shoved in the pockets of her jeans, skater shoes tied only haphazardly on her feet. Once again, her upper body was clad in her old jean jacket. Only now it had a clumsily resewn seam running up the right shoulder, like it had been yanked on so hard it had split.

Having arrived at school early, at the cost of a traded favor with Annie, he was already holding the attention of at least half of his classmates, so he had no choice but to look away again and concentrate. "Now just project that image onto the back of my head." He said with a charming smile.

In front of him, Van Pelt smiled back uncertainly.

Jane carefully watched the movements of her eyes, the duck of her head. "A star... inside a circle."

The girl blinked, her eyes widening.

Right on the nose.

"That's right! How-" She looked around at their classmates in amazement.

He shrugged, hands out demurely, still smiling. "It's a gift." The others smiled back at him reflexively, probably not even aware of what they were doing.

Van Pelt's attention shifted to the spot over his shoulder. "Lis, look- this guy can read minds."

There was a subtle scoff.

"I hear a doubter in our midst." Jane crowed a little breathlessly, turning to look at Lisbon as she was setting her bag next to her chair. He was sitting on his desk, so he brought his feet up into his chair and leaned toward her. "Care to give it a try?"

Green eyes latched onto his through her sheen of hair. In just that moment, he knew she recognized him.

"Come on, it's easy." He pointed between their heads exaggeratedly. "I just need to link my mind with yours to establish the right connection."

She was grinning, he could tell, even though her hair was mostly obscuring her smile. "Yeah right."

"No, I'm serious. Give me your hand." He reached for her.

"No." Lisbon squawked defensively, pulling back.

The whole room was paying attention now, with even the most unenthusiastic student looking their way. "I don't bite." He gave her his best winning smile. "I promise."

For a long moment, she just looked at him, seeming to weigh his proposal with great suspicion. Then she shrugged, seeming to decide that she could just slap him if she wanted to.

Which he had no doubt she would, if he did anything suspicious.

"Alright." She gave him her hand slowly.

"Thank you." Jane croaked. Her hand was surprisingly soft and small, and distracting beyond belief. A tingle ran through his arm as he clasped her hand and it was a struggle to concentrate on her eyes again. "Okay, I want you to think of a basic shape. It can be anything; circle, square, triangle. A star. Then put that shape inside of another basic shape. Picture it clearly in your mind. You got it?"

Still staring right at him, she nodded, a gently amused smile tilting her lips unconsciously.

"Now take that image and project it onto the back of my head."

Her eyes flickered.

She was harder to read than most, he had to admit, but still- "A triangle- inside a rectangle."

"No." She made a face. "Well, yes, but how-"

"You told me, with your mind." He grinned. When she took back her hand though, the smile slipped right from his face.

The crowd of students around him murmured happily, some even clapped, like the over-excited Van Pelt on his right.

"See, isn't it so cool?"

Lisbon responded with something that might have been an attempt at a smile, but just came across as a grimace.

"Alright class, settle down." Wainwright had entered the room and was putting his briefcase on his desk at the head of the class.

The students started to disperse, but most still weren't paying attention to the teacher.

"Neat trick." Lisbon said, amused. She had tugged one side of her hair back behind her ear, so that only half her face, the side with the fading black eye, was enshrouded. "How'd you do it?"

"I read your mind." He answered smugly.

"No- I mean it." She said, a chuckle in her voice. Her laugh was almost as beautiful as her smile had been last night.

"Maybe if you're nice to me, I'll tell you someday." He hazarded, leaning toward her a little, delighted when she didn't shy away.

She just laughed. "I'll have to make a note."

Jane grinned at her. He started to turn, to sit in his seat as Wainwright tried to start the class, when he saw it in a brief flash. It was gone so quickly that if his keen vision and attention to detail had ever failed him, he might have doubted what it was he had seen. Being who he was- he knew, without having to question.

It was a hand-print. A dark bruise. It was wrapped around Lisbon's forearm like a coiled black snake, hissing doubts and suspicions into his subconscious. A slick, oiled voice resounded in his ear, whispering about pain, screams, and abuse. The black eye hadn't just been an accident. Someone had given both to her. As the knowledge struck him, the pit of Jane's stomach didn't just drop. It disappeared entirely. Vanished, like it had been sucked into a vacuum.

He thudded down into his seat.

Behind him, Lisbon took hers too and her foot came up to settle on the back of his chair.

It's presence might have been comforting if he hadn't just seen what he had. The whole rest of the class, Jane couldn't concentrate. He remained hyper aware of every shift she made, every sigh, while his mind ran in circles, barely settling for more than a few seconds. Who had hurt her? Was it someone she knew? Probably. The odds were in favor of it at least and more than that, surely she would have told someone by now if it wasn't someone she knew. So who? Someone from her neighborhood? Maybe even her father? One of her brothers? Tommy had said he had more than one brother and Jane had no idea what they were like. Maybe a boyfriend? Summer had intimated that she had an interested party, perhaps that was it.

Jane grimaced. He felt less than useless right now. There was nothing he could figure out without more information, more access to her and her environment. Which would take some doing.

He focused his mind on his one connection with her, the limb she had placed against his back, to distract his jumbled thoughts and sooth his uneasiness. She had that kind of calming effect on him. But even that only kept his _mind_ from running around in circles. Nothing could seem to stop the sick roiling of his stomach.

The class finally let out, but Jane lingered, keeping one eye on Lisbon. He trailed her as far as her next class before running to get to his own on time. Once there, he used his exceptional mental abilities to block out the thought of her while he went through the motions.

Third period art turned into the sweetest torture. He couldn't help staring at her since she was fixed at the front of the class, couldn't get her out of his mind with her presence so near.

So it was with relief that Jane finally staggered into the lunch room. The chaos of the many students, the din and distraction was just what he needed. Sliding into the seat across from James again, Jane put his head down on his arm and groaned.

"You alright man?" James sounded more amused than worried.

"I haven't had a very good day." Jane croaked. He looked up at James, who was watching him curiously. "I've got a lot on my mind."

"I'll bet." The boy smiled.

For the first time, Jane noticed the dark circles under his new friends eyes. "Rough night?"

James shrugged. "I guess. Had a hard time sleeping last night."

Jane tilted his head. James didn't seem to be lying, but he was definitely hiding something. He thought of the bruise he had seen yesterday. Maybe it wasn't bullies then. Perhaps he had trouble at home.

"Hey!"

Oh, he knew that voice. As he turned, Jane spotted Lisbon hurrying toward them. For a moment, he thought maybe she was talking to him, but she passed by and stopped at the edge of their table, facing James.

They knew each other?

"Did you remember to give that form to Drew's teacher this morning?"

James' face registered shock and slight dismay.

That was all Lisbon needed to groan angrily. "Dammit, Jamie!"

"I'm sorry, okay? It's not like I meant to forget." James defended.

"Drew can't go on that field trip today without it! After all the trouble we went through getting Dad to sign it." She shook her head. Her hands were clenched in fists and she growled angrily. "God, for once, I really wish you would think of someone other than yourself."

James turned angry. "Hey, it's not my fault Drew couldn't remember his own address if someone tattooed it on the back of his hand!"

"He's your little brother! It's your responsibility to look out for him! I mean, come on. Do I have to do everything myself?" Her hand shot out. "Where is it? Give it to me."

"What for?" James asked sullenly, even though he was already getting out his bag and unzipping the top.

"If I run as fast as I can, I think I can make it there before his class leaves after lunch."

"But, doesn't that mean you'll be late again?" James handed over a sheet of paper.

"I wouldn't have to be if you had remembered, dork!" She shoved James' shoulder, but it wasn't more than an annoyed push.

By the peeved, but playful grimace crossing James' face, he was used to it from her.

For the first time since the start of the conversation, Lisbon looked away and spotted Jane. "Oh! Hey." It was an awkward moment.

"Hey." Jane murmured as brightly as he could muster. He had been an idiot. How could he not have seen the family resemblance?

James looked between them curiously.

He needed to diffuse the sudden tension. "Uh, look, if it would make it easier, I could maybe take your bag and coat to English. So you don't have to run with them?"

Obviously surprised, she hesitated. "Really? You sure?"

He nodded. "Be happy to."

After another uncertain beat, Lisbon slipped the bag from her shoulder and handed it over. Her jacket followed shortly. "Thanks."

"Not a problem."

With that, Lisbon started jogging from the room, leaving a void of silence gaping in the din of their unknowing peers.

"You know her?" James finally asked him.

"She's in a few of my classes." He swallowed. "I didn't realize you did."

The kid looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "Duh. She's my sister, spazz."

"I gathered." He frowned. "So, James- Lisbon?"

"Yeah. She's my big sis." James shook his head. "Welcome to planet earth, dude." He went back to his food a little sullenly, probably still sore at being chewed out by his sister in public, even though none of the other students had seemed to notice at all.

Jane was having trouble coalescing his thoughts into any semblance of order. Not only was he a little blindsided, but his mind was trying to piece together the patchwork of information that he had learned so far about both teens into a cohesive whole. So he just let himself stare while his brain worked, until finally something clicked into place.

Bruises on James, his lack of sleep and introverted attitude. Bruises on Lisbon, her protective streak, her hiding, her little brother Tommy. Their little brother Tommy. Their little brother Drew. Their maybe dead mother, _their_ drunken father last night. Jane's frown deepened. If James and Lisbon were siblings, and James was being abused at home... then Jane had a sudden idea of where exactly Lisbon had gotten her bruises.


	10. Ideas

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist and would not be foolish enough to claim to.

He just couldn't help it. He really couldn't. Still, he tried to do it discreetly. Jane peeked as he headed for class, walking down the crowded hall using only his periphery senses as he focused in on the contents of Lisbon's backpack. It contained two textbooks covered in torn, decorated brown paper, two notebooks with scribbles all over the covers and a change of gym clothes that smelled like sweat -and oddly cinnamon- crumpled in a heap. There was nothing else. No pens, or pencils, which made him think she must carry her stylus' around in her pockets or something. There was no real way to tell.

Then he remembered he had her jacket thrown over one arm and couldn't resist checking. A smirked torqued his lips when he found a pencil and marker in one of the pockets. His eyes strayed to the fixed seam along the jean's left shoulder, fingers following in their wake gently.

The repair was done in a functional, ugly sort of way. A seamstress Lisbon was clearly not, but it seemed infinitely more special as a jagged grouping of thread than neat little stitches would ever have been. It meant she cared enough to fix it, rather than just throw it away, even if she didn't really know how. At least, that's what he hoped. For some reason, it made him feel better thinking that she wasn't a wasteful person. It would be an excellent quality to possess. And if an old jean jacket barely holding it's threadbare seams together was worth the effort, maybe other things were. Or other people.

He was nearing his classroom. Gently draping her jacket back over his arm, Jane started to zip up the bag when a tiny sparkle caught his eye. Curious, he stopped his forward progress and looked inside more carefully. At the very bottom of the bag, piled in a small, tangled heap, was a delicate little cross on a thin chain. He frowned at it. Had it gotten tangled in her gym clothes and pulled off, or placed at the bottom of the bag intentionally? Should he grab it, so that he could hand it back to her, or leave it down there? His fingers were closing around it, when at the last second he pulled away and zipped the bag up the rest of the way. Best to leave well enough alone for now.

Once in his classroom amongst the press of other students moving for their seats, Jane noticed far more of the class than he had the day before as he walked to his seat. Perhaps because Lisbon wasn't there to distract him yet.

He shook his head. Really, was he that obsessed already?

Behind where Lisbon usually sat to the back of him and were Van Pelt was reading, were the two boys, Cho and Rigsby. The two were chatting amiably and even though it looked like Rigsby was the one carrying the conversation, they seemed to know each other well. Jane wondered what in the world those two could possibly have in common as he sat, twisted in his seat to observe his classmates. Off in one corner, he could see the girl who sat in front of him in Geometry, Brenda something, and the football player who had sat in front of Rigsby. What had his name been? O'Laughlin? He even saw the pretty brunette Rigsby had been talking to at lunch the other day sat up against one wall. She was talking to a boy he knew from his Chemistry class.

He really shouldn't be so surprised they all shared this class as well. Most of his year-mates had to take Geometry and English as requirements, so it made sense that most of them would wind up sharing at least some of their core classes.

Unable to keep his mind distracted for long, Jane looked at the clock over the door. Lisbon had better hurry. Not knowing how far away Drew's school was, he didn't even know if it was possible for her to get there and back before Hightower started class, but he had to hope. When the bell finally rang, his frown deepened and he went from wondering if she would make it to wondering when she would go from being tardy to absent on the record.

He fidgeted, which he didn't normally do. Nervously, he started jiggling his leg up and down rapidly as the time ticked slowly away.

Up front, Hightower called the room to order and got it remarkably quick. She started to take roll, making notes in a bright red notebook as she went. Lisbon still hadn't showed and when Hightower got to her name, her mouth twitched slightly but she didn't comment.

He looked at the time again.

"Alright people, homework in, books out, come on." Hightower sighed from the front.

Obediently, Jane did as he was told, but he did not even attempt to read any of what was before him. Instead, he leaned back a little and settled in for an anxious wait. Almost six minutes later, when Hightower was about ready to call an end to silent reading and start calling on people to answer questions, the door was flung open and he felt his heart leap into his throat unexpectedly.

Flushed, breathing hard, and staggering, Lisbon ran straight into the room.

There was an answering, bubbling murmur from the class. When he glanced away from Lisbon, he could see Van Pelt looking as worried as he felt. Perhaps the two really were friends.

Lisbon just ignored them all, bending to put her hands against her knees as she gulped in great lungfuls of air.

It was only then that Jane saw that she was trembling slightly. Drew's school had to be quite a distance away for her to run full tilt and still be so late.

After a moment, Hightower walked calmly over to Lisbon, hands behind her back. She waited a moment for Lisbon to catch her breath, expression equal parts concern, sadness and disappointment.

When Lisbon finally straightened, holding a stitch in her side, she looked disappointed too and slightly hopeless. She must know what was coming.

So did Jane.

"I'm sorry, Lisbon. I'm gonna have to ask you to go to the office-"

"Uh, here!" Jane interrupted hurriedly. He didn't know why he was talking or even why he was moving, just that he couldn't let this happen. Not to Lisbon. What use were the rules when they protected no one and only gnashed up those that actually needed help? His body seemed to be acting on instinct alone as he stood and held out Lisbon's backpack toward her. Think fast, think fast! "I can't believe that teacher needed so much help." He smiled breathlessly. "I thought he said it'd be just a minute."

Hightower eyed him in surprise.

In fact, everyone was staring at him with similar expressions, even Lisbon. She was watching him, staring like a deer caught in the headlights, before she finally managed to shake herself and limply take her bag back. "Uh... thanks, Patrick."

Jane tried not to shiver when she said his first name. This would not do, not at all. There could be no more of that during this conversation if he was going to be believable. "I told you Lisbon, it's Jane, at least until I get to call you by your first name." There was a snigger and a grunt from behind him, but he didn't turn to see whose reactions they were. Instead, he smiled brightly, almost too brightly. "You at least got a note from him right?" He asked conversationally as he held out her jacket to her too.

Ms. Hightower looked at Lisbon sharply, but by then, the girl had recovered enough to play along.

"N-no. I didn't want to be even later than I already was." She made a helpless gesture. "I- guess it slipped my mind."

Hightower looked between them. "Without a note-"

Damn. "Well, I guess you'll just have to get one for Ms. Hightower later, Lisbon." Jane smiled at the teacher between them, his most convincing look plastered on his face. Hightower may be sharp, but he knew from experience that it wasn't so much a lack of keenness or even intelligence that made a con work. It was the audiences desire to believe.

Apparently, Hightower really liked Lisbon a lot, because she wanted to believe.

"If that's what happened, I suppose I can wait till the end of the day for a note." She softened her tone considerably. "But only till the end of the day."

Jane looked over and saw the way Lisbon's eyes had gone wide and paralyzed, obviously not knowing what to do now. If she told the truth, she would get in more trouble than before, but she didn't have a note and they two both knew it. As he caught her eye, she suddenly glared at him as discreetly as possible, voice sullen and wrathful. "Yes, ma'am."

Jane returned to his seat, feeling the anger and confusion rolling off Lisbon in waves as she sat behind him. His heart skipped a beat from fear when her foot slammed into the back of his chair just as angrily.

The entire rest of the class, he found himself in much the same position as he had this morning. He remained aware of her, of her frustration, her anger barely concealed but evident in the way her foot clunked rhythmically against his back till it was all he could think about. When the bell finally rang, Jane lingered, letting her get out first. He knew enough to give her a wide berth till she simmered down.

His last classes sped by while he devoted all of his concentration to getting Lisbon out of the mess he had made of her earlier predicament. He had formed a basic plan by the time the last bell signaled the end of the school day, walked out into the hall and was immediately seized and pulled into an empty room. He stumbled for a moment, but eventually righted himself and took a step back when he realized Lisbon was pacing not far away. Squinting, he looked around the dimly lit room. It was some kind of cupboard, he thought, perhaps a supply room based on the rolling trays of TV's gathered in one corner.

He almost jumped a foot off the floor when Lisbon finally turned on him sharply.

"Are you crazy? How the _hell_ am I supposed to come up with a note from a teacher I didn't help?" She pointed a finger in his chest. "When she finds out I don't have one, I'm gonna get at least three times more detention than I was headed for and you- will be a dead man."

"Now, now, no need for threats." He warded her off by putting his hands up between them. "It'll all work out."

She gave him a look that clearly said that she was not convinced.

"Relax, okay." Jane smiled at her gently. "I can get us out of this."

"Us? What us?" She snarled. "I'm the one with my head on the chopping block here."

"I'd never let you go it alone." Jane defended automatically.

That took them both aback a little.

"Uh-" He cleared his throat and firmed his voice. Now was not the time to get distracted. "I meant, since I started this, I'll finish it. Come on." He grabbed her hand and pulled her along with him out of the dusty room. "I have an idea."


	11. Execution- or- That Favorite Place

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist and would not be foolish enough to claim to.

Watching surreptitiously from the doorway in acute fascination, Jane felt a spike of apprehension flood his system. He'd only outlined the basic plan, the target goal, and shoved Lisbon headlong into their first period classroom. Of all the teachers to try and fool, he hoped Mr. Wainwright would be the most susceptible to Lisbon's charm and distress. He was a new teacher, less likely to know most of the tricks some of the students like her might used.

Despite Lisbon's slightly inexperienced performance, Wainwright seemed to be buying it. He was writing out a note, at any rate.

Jane stepped back discreetly out of sight as his cohort slowly backed out of the classroom.

"Really sir, I can't thank you enough." Lisbon finally closed the door with a soft click and then stood unmoving.

"You got it?" Jane reached out and plucked the note from her inert hand.

"I- cannot believe I just did that." She breathed, aghast.

"Meh, he'll never know. You did great. A little over-the-top, maybe, but great." Jane told her, unconcerned and looking over the note she had been given to work with. It had all the necessary elements, the curve to the tail of the t, the sweeping arch of the A, and the twisted lines of the s. "Perfect. Come on." He grabbed Lisbon's hand, just as he had earlier, and pulled her down the hallway to slip into an empty classroom.

"I don't get it, Jane. That note won't work. Hightower will know immediately." She said lamely, letting herself be pulled along across the classroom.

"Which is why, we aren't going to use Wainwright's note. We're going to make one of our own." He pulled out paper and a pen from the counter-top and placed it over the note they already had.

She blinked at him and spoke warily. "What do you mean?"

"Just this- watch." He leaned over, held the note to the window, and began to copy letters, only this time into a note that would get Lisbon out of trouble in a heart-beat.

"You're forging a note- from a teacher." She asked in disbelief. Her hands lifted to run through her hair and she began to pace in agitation. "Oh god, what have I gotten myself into? Do you realize how much trouble we could could get in for that?"

"They'll never find out, Lisbon, will you relax? Do you really want a month's worth of detention? I mean, who would pick up Tommy if you did?"

She stopped and looked at him in confusion.

He kept an eye on her out of the corner of his eye and continued working.

"How did you-" She paused.

"James told me." He lied seamlessly. "He drops off and picks up Drew, you drop off and pick up Tommy, yes?"

She frowned but didn't say anything more. Instead, she took up her pacing again, restless for something to distract her.

Jane just tried to concentrate on what he was doing. They didn't have much time left. Sure enough, not long after, another bell rang, signaling the fact that all students not in practice or detention should have left the school by now.

"Done." He handed the note over with a hurried flourish and scrambled to get her out the door. "Go, go, go."

"What if it doesn't work?" Lisbon asked desperately as he pushed her from behind toward the exit.

"You have to sell it, Lisbon." He grunted. "Don't worry so much. Hightower likes you, why else would she sometimes let you babysit her kids?"

"How did you-"

"If it doesn't work, I'll pick up Tommy for you. Alright? Will you just go?" Jane asked, exasperated.

Giving him one last look that he couldn't quite interpret, Lisbon did. She bolted from the room so fast, he stumbled with her sudden lack of resistance.

He huffed and straightened his clothes fussily. Then he followed her at a more sedate pace, knowing the outcome was no longer under his control and unwilling to dwell on the problem. Instead, he thought of Lisbon and her abrupt departure. Something he said must have convinced her. But what? His assurance that Hightower liked her? The fact that he knew she watched the teacher's kids sometimes? That hadn't been hard to figure out. Hightower was divorced, rather recently too by the tan line on her left ring finger. It was clear she was a mother, and her reaction to Lisbon bespoke a deeper bond than just teacher and student.

Jane shook his head. That wasn't it. He stopped. Was it his offer to go get Tommy? He frowned in thought and things suddenly started clicking into place. Lisbon clearly cared for her family deeply. She was willing to sacrifice herself to make sure her brother's didn't miss out on special opportunities, that had been made clear by her earlier run to Drew's school. He wondered how often she got any help with that though. How often did anyone else offer to help her brothers- to help her bear the load?

How often did anyone else care?

Slowly he drew up outside Hightower's classroom. Lisbon's muffled voice came from within, so he leaned back against the wall in an eerily similar pose to yesterday, but this time he didn't try to eavesdrop. And when Lisbon came out the door, she didn't rush past him leaking tears this time.

Instead, the door slowly closed behind her.

He stood up straight to receive the verdict and staggered back when Lisbon threw her arms around his neck.

She was hugging him.

For a moment, he just stood there with her body pressed to his, too shocked to move. Then he slowly snaked a hand around her tiny ribcage and hugged her back.

He wasn't used to hugs. He wasn't really used to touch in general. Not anymore. But Lisbon's chest pressed against his, her warmth surrounding him, a shaky laugh slipping past her lips- he never wanted to let go. He had officially found his favorite place in the world and it was right there, in her arms. Surrounded by her.

It wasn't to last, of course. Such joy never was in his experience.

Lisbon drew back out of his arms, putting her hair behind her ear and her other hand in her pocket a little self consciously. She had a smile on her lips though.

The same one that never ceased to make his heart stutter a bit.

"Thanks- Jane. She bought it, just like you said she would."

He smiled back.

"Uh, I better- you know, get going." She gestured helplessly down the hall. "I'm already late getting Tommy, so-"

"No, go. I get it." He shoved his hands in his pockets and sidled back to get on her other side as she started to leave. "Um- I'm glad things worked out."

She paused briefly, emerald eyes meeting his and telling him far more than her words. "Thanks again."

"My pleasure." Jane answered sincerely, still smiling.

They turned away from each other simultaneously, but Jane hoped he didn't imagine that she seemed just as reluctant to part as he did. He hadn't realized how thrilling it had all been till he got outside and breathed the crisp air in deeply.

His chest was full to bursting. He hadn't had that much fun or felt that much joy in so long it was almost painful to bear. His smile wouldn't leaving his face. As he started down the street, his feet felt lighter than the air around him and he couldn't help but begin to whistle an upbeat tune as he walked.


	12. Swing High

Author's Note: I'm sicker than a dog and have been for a long while. SO- hopefully this makes sense and isn't just the delusional ramblings of fever. I promise nothing.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist and would not be foolish enough to claim to.

Life, for Jane, changed after that. All of his thoughts and energies, his very existence, seemed to shift and alter, with a whole new focal point coming to rest with a hard jolt right at it's center.

Lisbon.

That's all that she was labeled as in his mind, was just 'Lisbon', even though he did try to learn her first name. He really did. He just didn't put as much concentration into it as he normally might have, because for some reason he didn't quite understand, he wanted _her_ to be the one to tell him. He wanted the connection, liked that the mystery was being unwrapped one little revelation at a time and she was the one that was letting him in. She was the most complex mystery he had ever come across.

What could he say, he loved a challenge.

For the next few days, he just concentrated on enjoying every second he got to be near her, every glance they shared. He hovered near her track meets after school, occasionally chatting up Tommy in the stands and she seemed to enjoy seeing there. He lingered too long in their classes just to talk to her and tease her, because she was absolutely adorable and beautiful when she flushed a dark crimson. He found himself seeking her out at every opportunity, consciously or not. And what he discovered the more he was in her presence, was that he was incredibly, irrevocably _enchanted._

He was ridiculously lost- to the flash of her emerald eyes from beneath her dark hair. The delicate smell of flowers, cinnamon, and just a hint of stale whiskey off her clothes. The occasionally quirk of her lips, a rare gesture she reserved for people she seemed to enjoy being around.

Of course, her foot against the back of his chair, hovering near his spine... that was what he was hooked on the most. It was like a drug. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't control his body's visceral reaction to her proximity. His heart raced too fast, his nerves tingled. It made it hard to concentrate, even though he wanted to be at his best to impress her. She was incredibly hard to impress too, and he had the sneaky suspicion that she knew it too. She made his heart leap every time she was near.

In short- Lisbon was driving him insane.

That wasn't all though, no. He noticed a change in Lisbon too, one that he approved of greatly. He had become the first one her eyes sought out when they had a class together. She'd sit and begin talking to Grace Van Pelt or to Cho, Summer, or even Rigsby, and then turn to him to get his opinion. Included him.

It was like coming out into the sun after being locked in the shadows.

As it usually did, life fell into a routine, even for him. He slipped into a sort of calm, peaceful world, filled with days of Lisbon and nights with Mrs. Ruskin and he loved every minute of it. He somehow ceased being the boy wonder and became consumed by something he'd never let himself believe he would ever feel or find.

Not that he was ready to admit it. Mostly because he wasn't ready to name it out loud and risk it being destroyed. This feeling inside of him was like a sapling, fragile and new- a part of him that seemed to have atrophied over time with lack of use. He was too cautious to test it just yet. Too desperate to just pull it out into the harsh light of a cruel world where it might wither. He'd bide his time, get to know Lisbon better. Listen to more of Ms. Ruskin's stories. Maybe, when he got out of the mess he'd found himself in, he'd be able to ask Lisbon out on a date. He'd use every trick of the trade remorselessly to get her to say yes.

On a cold, frosty autumn night, he put on Brahm's Concerto in D major and slipped out the window of his bedroom. Ostensibly, it was to use the pay phone at the convenience store again to make the call, but really, he just peered at the bar across the street, trying to spot Lisbon.

To his disappointment, she wasn't there, but as he walked slowly and sorrowfully back across the street, he did spot someone that he knew.

Near the bar he could see Summer's curly pink hair, half-hidden behind the mass of an SUV. She was being yelled at by a large, beefy gentleman who seemed like a great deal less than a gentleman.

Jane thought about stepping in since she seemed nervous, maybe talking the guy into walking away, but that was when Cho showed up.

The low-riding car he was in screeched as he pulled up quickly and jumped out. The kid started yelling back at the man harassing Summer, even though Summer herself tried to pull him away from the argument. The man made a loud comment followed by a rude gesture and before Jane could blink, Cho was already taking a high swing at the guy.

It was a nice hit, one that knocked the guy flat, but Summer didn't seem impressed. She shouted at Cho, shoved him, and rushed away.

Without moving a muscle, Jane watched Cho follow silently, but he didn't interfere. He was curious, yes, but until he knew what kind of trouble Summer was in, he couldn't do anything about it. Maybe that was something he could talk about with Lisbon.

Instead, he made the long walk back to Ms. Ruskin's, not even realizing that the lights were still shining from the old woman's windows.


	13. Carny, sweet carny

Author's Note: Writer's block is a... well, it sucks. I know where I want to go, I'm just having trouble getting it to go there, so my postings may be rather further apart for a while.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist and would not be foolish enough to claim to.

Jane had noticed it from the very beginning. The way Rigsby's eyes followed Van Pelt, the lost puppy look he often gave to her retreating form- it didn't take a genius to work it out. Rigsby wanted Grace Van Pelt and he wanted her bad. However, he couldn't seem to pluck up the courage to ask her out.

Grace could see it, at least a little bit, Jane knew she could. She even seemed to reciprocate the football players feelings, but something was holding her back. Maybe it was the stigma of being one of the new kids. After all, she had only just started at this school in the beginning of the school year. Maybe it was the fact that her father was the assistant coach of the football team. She wouldn't want to ruin anything for him by making it seem like her father had good reasons to play favorites. Whatever the reason, the two skirted around each other like scared herring, ready to bolt in either direction but unable to really part.

It was almost physically painful to watch. Jane tried to be encouraging, to give Rigsby openings when he could tear his own gaze off of Lisbon, but the guy was too scared to actually do anything.

So the rest of the week passed by before he knew it. The weekend was upon them... and Jane had a promise to keep.

:)

The carnival was a place of gaiety, of enjoyment, but mostly- it was a place of noise. People laughing loudly, screaming as they zoomed past on large metal rides, or just talking together as loudly as possible to be heard above the din surrounding them.

Here, unattended children were free to ran happily down the narrow corridors between rows of stalls all designed for the sole purpose of assaulting the senses with lights, sounds, and smells of all kinds. There were healthy lines in front of all the rides, and even some before games like dart-throwing and the fishing booth.

The heavy odor of popcorn and fatty, deep-fried foods filled the nostrils, combining with a layer of sugary confections, a tiny cloying hint of vomit, and a dash of sweaty bodies.

A heavy curtain, one dashingly embroidered in gold thread, was carefully draped out of the way but it still cut the assault down to a gentle roar, which allowed Jane to observe the chaos outside without seeming like he was a part of it. Seeing a child begging for cotton candy through the gap, he smiled indulgently. This was home, far more than any other place had ever felt in a very long time, with the possible exception of Mrs. Ruskin's house.

Slightly bored, Jane shuffled the tarot cards before him, trying to remind himself that this was worth it. He had gotten to school early enough to get Lisbon to notice him, to begin the process of getting to the bottom of the mystery she posed and Annie got a psychic for the weekend.

It wasn't that he minded the ruse. He had done it so many times that it was literally second nature to him by now. He and his father had practically lived on the mid-west carnival circuit for a solid four years, before his father had decided it was paltry trimmings compared to what lay in the outside world.

Look where that had gotten him.

"Patrick Jane, sit up straight."

Startled, Jane did and then grinned when he turned and spotted Sam sticking her head through the back curtain.

The black girl smiled back, obviously proud that she had caught him unawares. With a smug little twist of her lips, she pushed her way inside the tent. Her black, frizzy hair was braided close to her scalp and then allowed to halo around the back of her head. She was still in her apron with 'Elephant Ears' splayed in bright blue lettering across its front.

"Aren't you supposed to be busy?" He asked mockingly as the small girl lifted her hips and sat on the table near his crystal ball.

She picked the hunk of marble up casually and started flipping it from hand to hand. "Aren't you?"

"You know the psychic crowd doesn't really start till evening." He chided.

"So why'd Annie want you set up so early?" Sam asked mischievously.

He shrugged. "That woman would squeeze blood from a stone if she could. We made a deal."

"You're crazy." The girl offered succinctly.

"Probably." He answered good-naturedly. "But unlike you, I keep my promises."

"Hey." She said indignantly, standing up. "Don't go impugning my good name." From a pocket under her apron she drew out a bundle wrapped in brown paper and handed it over.

Jane stared at it, a little startled she had actually come through for him.

"And don't say I never did nothin' for ya." She whispered, bent close, and pressed her lips against him cheek before skipping her way out the front entrance.

He watched her leave with an amused smile surprised onto his face. That girl... Slowly, he shook his head and stowed the package out of sight as his next customer entered the tent.

:)

Jane took a moment to look around at the crowd as he cradled his hot dog near his chest. It was a warm evening, made even warmer by the press of bodies. There were a few people he recognized among the crowd, from school and even a few from around town, but mostly it was a sea of strangers glancing back at him. Not that he was surprised. Most people came on Fridays and Saturdays so they were bound to get a lot of traffic he didn't know yet. In fact, he might have recognized more if there weren't so many of them packed in such a small space.

He took a bite of his food, feeling the ketchup slide into the crease at the corner his lips.

It was Saturday, waning on into sundown, which was why he had decided to get his dinner while he could. Even as he people-watched and ate, he became certain he'd never be able to pick someone specific out of this crowd.

Except there was no way he wouldn't recognize the dark hair and emerald eyes. He almost dropped his hotdog in shock. Then, like a deer caught in the headlights, he could do nothing but freeze and stare.

Lisbon was slowly making her way through the press on the other side of the aisle. She had her hair back, pulled into a low ponytail at the nape of her neck. She could, now that her black eye had faded to only a slight shadowing no one would notice unless they were looking for it. He blinked down at her body. Too his utmost surprise, she was actually wearing a dress. His jaw slowly dropped as he took her in, dress and all.

It was black, with cropped sleeves and a hemline just below her knees. The edges were done in a narrow band of dark purple and white which matched the small scarf around her neck. She looked- an odd combination of beautiful and adorable, which made him feel like he'd been hit by a club.

Oh yes. Totally and completely lost.

There was a boy at her elbow too, one that looked too old for her in Jane's opinion. The kid had expensive tastes, from the car keys dangling from one hand, to his wrist banded with a large, ugly gold watch.

Only excessively expensive things were that gaudy.

Lisbon's panning eyes caught on him.

He turned away a little in panic, worried she would see the stupor she had put him into, but then took firmer control of himself. It wasn't like he wasn't supposed to be there or that she shouldn't see him- as long as he could pull himself together. Slowly he made a show of scuffing something on the grass as though he hadn't seen her and looked back up.

She dimpled a smile his way, seeming almost excited to see him.

Or was that his imagination?

Before he could wave her off, she motioned to the boy beside her and the two made a beeline for him.

"Jane! Hey, I didn't know you were coming to the carnival today." One hand moved as if she was going to put it into her pocket, realized the dress didn't have one, and settled to fold behind her back. "Wish we'd known. We would've invited you along with us."

Her companions expression clearly said 'don't count on it', but they both feigned a smile anyway and shook each others hands.

"Walter Mashburn."

Mashburn? Where had Jane heard that name before?

"Patrick Jane." He answered, trying to sound amiable though he felt anything but.

"Walter goes to our school." Lisbon said a little uncertainly, looking between them. "He's a senior."

Yes, much too old for Lisbon.

"You must be new. I thought I'd met everyone in the senior and junior years." Mashburn commented.

"Just started." Jane said with a faint, fake smile.

"Jane's in a few of my classes." Lisbon explained. "He's a... a friend."

A warmth infused Jane's cold chest.

"Well, friend- it was nice seeing you." Mashburn made to walk away, moving his hand to possessively cradle the small of Lisbon's back to bring her with him.

She gave Jane a hesitant smile in farewell.

A thought occurred to him. Lisbon... alone with Mashburn. Yeah, that was going to happen-never. He caught them, reaching out to lightly touch her arm near the crease of her elbow. "Actually, I'm working. Just-" He held his hotdog aloft. "Stopped for dinner. Would you like to come see?" He tilted his head back over his shoulder.

Lisbon looked surprised, but also somewhat intrigued. Slowly, she nodded.

Eyebrows up, Mashburn peered at him, narrowing his eyes at something he saw. His expression darkened to a bit of a scowl as he looked him up and down. However, when Lisbon glanced toward him, he cleared his features and nodded amiably.

Once she had turned away again, a fire entered his eyes and he smiled challengingly at Jane.

Ah-ha.

The guy was seriously eying him like a competitor advancing on his mate, smugly certain he would come out the victor.

Jane almost laughed. He wanted competition? He would get it.

As Lisbon stepped to follow him, Jane maneuvered to walk side-by-side with her, effectively shutting the young man out.

Mashburn scoffed quietly but Jane ignored him.

Lisbon looked over at him as they walked together.

"Want some?" Jane offered the hotdog.

She surprised him once again by smiling and leaning toward him. Her lips parted and his heart stopped. It wasn't a dainty bite like some women Jane had seen. He'd offered a bite and a actual bite she would take.

This time, he didn't stop himself from laughing. Lisbon was awesome.

Blushing mildly, she put her hand in front of her mouth as she chewed because she was trying not to break out in a smile.

He almost felt sorry for the guy trailing behind them.


	14. Insert foot

Author's Note: For those that asked. I tried to hurry just for you, even if it wasn't very fast. Happy Holidays!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist and would not be foolish enough to claim to.

Careful to keep his eyes from lingering on Lisbon too long, Jane led the winding way to his one-room tent near the edge of the games section and presented it to them with an extravagant bow. Which did exactly as he had intended.

Lisbon rolled her eyes at his showmanship, but she was smiling and her eyes were still sparkling with good humor. She peeked at the sign in front of the entrance and snorted. "Of course."

It read, 'Boy Wonder: Youth Psychic.'

He just grinned in response and without answering the exasperated sigh, he swept the curtain up into its tie out of the way so they could come in.

As she entered, Lisbon stared around at the room with interest. "Nice." She fingered the tablecloth, with its shimmering gold thread embroidery. Her eyes were dancing as she glanced back up at him. "You get a lot of customers?"

He shrugged. "A fair few. Enough to bolster the carnival's intake."

"Yeah, nothing like a psychic to bring out the freaks." Mashburn said, coming in the tent behind them, his voice raised a little with a hint of bitterness. He didn't seem particularly pleased at being ignored by his date in any way.

Jane chose to ignore the surly teenager in favor of watching the other.

Her eyes moved down across the crystal ball and then up at him curiously, expression conveying a silent question.

Trying to suppress a gleeful smile, he instead managed to give an agreeable nod to her.

Slowly, her fingers stroking the smooth surface of the crystal, she asked- "So, what? You do fortunes and stuff?" -though she didn't seem like she was making fun of him. Only that she was naturally curious and skeptic.

He couldn't help but smile even wider. As it turned out, he loved skeptics and curiosity, like her protective streak, was a good attribute to possess. She was impressing him more and more the longer he knew her. "Mostly, I read tarot cards and do psychic readings. 'Read minds', so to speak."

Lisbon grinned and shook her head. "Are you like one of those psychics they have on TV? The ones that say they can talk to the dead?"

Attempting at delicacy, Jane slid thoughtfully around the table. "Very occasionally, some people have asked me to make contact with deceased loved ones."

Her expression dropped slightly, face shifting into purposefully emotionless as quickly as he could blink. She turned away on the pretext of scanning the room more thoroughly but he could see right through that.

Jane tried to follow her gaze, but he wasn't very successful as she turned her back toward him. "As long as people feel better for the experience, I feel I've done my job." Troubled by the shift in the conversation, he spared a look at Mashburn, who was still lingering in the entrance.

There was a smug smile crossing the kids face. Slowly, Mashburn made a gesture for him to continue and crossed his arms, like he was just waiting for Jane to hang himself.

He wasn't going to be outed that easily. "Sometimes, I've found things that people have lost, or given them insights into themselves. Things that maybe they already want to change when they step inside. It varies." He shrugged one shoulder as he spoke. His casual tone brought Lisbon's eyes back on him and she gave him a tiny smile, as if saying she wasn't mad or even as upset as she seemed. Jane knew a lie when he saw one, so he tried to give her some assurance, some clue as to what he did. "People think all sorts of things in their heads and convey them with their eyes and their bodies even when they aren't aware of it. It's my job to see that and bring it out into the light." Seriously, he met her gaze by dipping his head a little. "I'd never try anything someone didn't ask me to. Being curious, doesn't mean I'd pry or be able to know everything about a person. Trust me, I learn just enough, no more." That aught to assure her he wasn't trying to pry into her head and her secrets, even if he was, in a way. Only in the normal, accepted way of prying.

Her frown lifted a little and she was watching him closely, clearly open-minded and -hearted enough to be willing to hear more.

"I may take their money, but I'd never intentionally hurt anyone."

That brought back her smile, even if it was faint. She looked like she might even believe him, but she was guarded as always, so it was hard to tell. Still, she nodded in acceptance.

"I'm sure you're very... _gifted_." Mashburn said sarcastically, obviously sore that he'd managed to repair what he'd almost ruined.

Jane leveled a look at the guy smugly. "I am."

Mashburn's eyebrows rose. "Modest too. For someone that works out of a smelly yurt."

"Walter, lay off." Lisbon shushed quietly.

But Jane wasn't done yet. "If I cared what people thought of me, I might be a little insulted that you so doubt my abilities."

"Oh, I don't deny you're perceptive." Mashburn conceded. "But you're also a fake. You have this certain... _charlatan_ air about you. It's really quite amusing." He smiled, baring his teeth. It wasn't meant to be friendly, no matter what it might seem like.

"Oh? Maybe you'd like to see a demonstration?" He glanced at Lisbon, who was watching the both of them with hooded eyes, keeping her thoughts firmly to herself. She probably didn't approve of their attempts to one-up each other. He returned Mashburn's smile regardless with an unpleasantness of his own, all of it shrouded in mannerisms. After all, he could play with the best of them, no matter how high-brow, and this kid was no different than his older counterparts. Just with less experience. "How about it, Walter- want to give it a try?"

Mashburn shook his head. "Sorry, I'm not into all that mystical goop."

Jane let his grin widen noticeably to goad him on. "Come on. What could it hurt?"

Looking him up and down, the teenager shrugged lightly, still smiling as he took a step closer. "Alright." He sat in the chair across the table. "So, do you need my palm or something?"

Lisbon drew closer too, face still wary but curiosity officially peaked.

"If you want, but it's not necessary. I'll just do a reading on you. You tell me whether I'm right or wrong, but don't try to lie, I'll know."

"Oh, I'd never lie." That smile was getting more carnivore-like as time went on.

Jane matched his hostility and his posture. "All I have to do is dig a little into your subconscious for this. You don't mind?"

"Not at all. Could be fun." Mashburn said with a grin at Lisbon.

She looked uncertain. "What are you going to read from him? Some kind of secret?"

"No, no." He waved that away. "I'm just going to get a read on his personality." Jane slid the cards and crystal ball aside, looking into Mashburn's eyes. "I'm gonna ask you some questions, alright?"

"Ask away."

"What day of the month were you born?"

"The fifteenth." Mashburn answered without hesitating.

"Favorite color?"

"Red."

"Food?"

"Pasta con formaggio basilico, a specialty at the White Light. They have this sauce that is utterly decadent." He grinned confidently.

Tilting his head, Jane watched as Mashburn unconsciously mimicked him. Perfect. "You've gotten everything you ever wanted your whole life. Born rich, you've inherited your fathers ruthlessness and your mothers vanity, for which you also have intense resentment toward her. She steals too much of the lime-light, doesn't she?"

Mashburn's smile slipped faintly.

He continued. "You're egotistical and just _hate_ to be ignored." A glance at Lisbon showed a slight frown creasing her brow, but she didn't interrupt and he didn't pause long enough to get a read on her. He was busy.

"That's it?" Mashburn seemed wholly unfazed by his assessment. "This is how you work your magic? You play mind games with people?"

"Of course. The mind is the most powerful thing in the world. I did tell you I mostly read minds, did I not?"

"Anyone could guess all that merely by looking at the way I dress. You've provided no great insight. It's nothing more than a parlor trick."

"Insight? Is that what you wanted?" Jane chuckled. "You should have said so. Let's see." He looked into the guy's eyes more intensely, watching the minutia of little things Mashburn gave off despite his remarkable control of himself. "You think you sweat too much and have tried multiple ways of hiding it."

Mashburn finally frowned a little and stole a glance at Lisbon before blanking his expression.

"You've also got mild dirt phobia, and your issues with your mother stem more from her affairs behind your father's back than anything to do with your own relationship with her." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lisbon flush with embarrassment at what intimate things she was hearing. Perhaps he was taking this a little too far.

Meanwhile, Mashburn had paled slightly in confirmation but was quick with the rebuttal. "And yet, despite all that, I'm the one out on a date with Miss Lisbon, when it's you that has the crush on her."

Jane winced.

Direct hit.

He would admit it stung a little, but it also galvanized his relentless tromping of this guy and whatever hold he had on _his_ Lisbon. Without thinking, he blurted out the first thing on his tongue. "And the only reason you asked her out is because you want to sleep with her."

Mashburn's expression darkened with anger at losing, a frown springing up in place of his cocky grin. Yet, somehow, he also seemed to have an aura of victory about him. Bittersweet, but victory none-the-less.

Having caught up with his own tongue, Jane blinked owlishly for a second and looked suddenly at Lisbon.

She had her jaw clenched tightly, her eyes conveying her hurt before she turned and stormed out the entrance without looking back at either of them.

He started after her, but stopped and cursed vehemently.

"You know what? I like you."

Jane turned back to Mashburn angrily.

The guy was leaned back, casually resting one arm on the back of his chair with his ankle draped over his opposite knee. "You're like me, only more intelligent and less jaded or ruthless when it comes to romance." He looked up and smiled. "It's interesting."

"Anything for a thrill, huh?" Jane said bitterly, whacking his crystal ball in frustration and knocking it to the floor. "I'm not as interested as you are, you know. Just because there's not a lot that excites you anymore, doesn't mean I don't already have my hands full."

Thoughtfully, Mashburn studied him. "I upset you with my attitude?"  
"Upset me?" Jane almost laughed. "No, and it's not just your attitude either. Do you irritate me a little? Maybe."  
"Why's that?"

"You're entitled and rich. Arrogant."  
"When do you get to the bad stuff?" Mashburn asked, amused.

Jane found himself shaking. "She isn't any of those things. Not even remotely."

"So?"

"You're wrong for her!" He thudded the table and leaned closer on his palms.

Mashburn just watched him. "And you're right?"

Jane looked away. It was taking all his control to stop himself from yelling at his companion some more in anger.

"Look, I'll admit, you were right about me. You beat me- that's impressive."

"You're admitting my superiority?" Jane asked caustically. Suddenly he wasn't in the mood to hear it, or to care.

Grinning, Mashburn tilted his head back and forth. "I know you're a charlatan- as I said. You size up people's weaknesses and then you give them the rope to hang themselves."

"Oh, you make it sound so cool." Jane spat.

Mashburn shrugged. "I don't know why you try to be a good guy, some hopeless quest for redemption maybe, I don't really care. All I do know, is myself. You're the one that seems to be in denial."

That made Jane pause.

"I'm cunning and I hate to lose, but when I do, I do it right." He stood. "So I'll tell you something in return for the entertainment, even if it did cost me a chance with Miss Lisbon. She has a damaged intensity that's quite attractive, but you'd be wise to be more careful with her. She doesn't take hurt lightly- and you did. Hurt her, I mean. In your attempt to hurt me."

"That's your advice?" Jane asked, unimpressed.

"Just a free piece of information. My advice... is to go after her."

Jane pulled back a little, surprised.

"If you really have as big of a crush on her as I think you do, go after her and apologize. Don't let her shut you out. She'll try, in order to protect herself. You've no idea how long I had to work just to get her to agree to a date." He smiled ruefully. "But deep down, she wants to have someone closer to her. Someone that isn't her brothers. So try. Oh, and take care of her. Whether I just wanted to sleep with her or not, doesn't mean I'm cruel. She's got enough going on in her life without all this."

Grimly and slowly, Jane nodded. He didn't really know what to think about what the guy had said, but he was willing to accept any help he could get right now.

"Good luck." Mashburn slipped out of the tent and Jane just stood still as he disappeared into the crowd.


	15. The dancing man

Author's Note: You guys are so sweet and patient. Thanks for reading.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist and would not be foolish enough to claim to.

He found her sitting on a cut tree trunk in the open field that had been converted into a parking lot, her petite form almost completely lost among the masses of cars lined up around her in neat little rows. The purple and white end of the black dress was folded up beneath her knees primly, along with her hands, and her smokey eyes were focused entirely too intently on her lap. As he got closer, he thought he saw her tremble, but then she heard his footsteps and the vulnerability melted away instantly.

A few steps away from her side, he stopped and studied her. Wary, as though she was going to attack any minute.

He couldn't rule it out.

Lisbon's lips were set in a thin line, her shoulders square, her expression one of stoney indifference. It was like she was trying to force herself not to care. Not only to project it, but to feel it.

It brought an inexplicable sadness over him.

Aloofness must have helped her at home. He didn't entirely have the whole situation worked out, but it was clearly hard on her. So, if she didn't care about what happened, it couldn't hurt her. The problem with that logic, was that she obviously did care. A lot. The hurt and anger was coming off her in waves.

He couldn't quite tell how much she had cared about that Mashburn character. She seemed to enjoy the guy's attention at any rate. His willingness to spend money and time on her must have made her feel cared about, whether he really did or not. It must have been nice for her- to finally have someone taking care of _her_.

Walter didn't seem like that bad of a guy, in retrospect.

After all, the hurt she was pushing away was caused by him, not Mashburn. For a moment, he thought about turning right back around and going back to the carnival. Annie would kill him if she knew how much he was slacking off. But, he never had been the type of person to turn away from a challenge, even if retreat would have been the wiser option. He drew closer to her, coming up on her left to face her.

She looked up at him out of the corner of her eye but didn't otherwise acknowledge his presence. Instead, she turned just slightly away.

Okay, that wasn't a good sign. He needed to change her outlook. Taking several more steps, he lined up his body with the edge of her vision. When he was directly in front of her, he suddenly put his hands out and tapped his feet on the ground in a little jig.

Though her head was still turned away, he could see a small smile attempting to tilt her lips. It was like she was trying not to show she was paying him any attention, but couldn't help it.

It made his heart flutter as he clapped his hands, spun, and finally struck an exaggerated pose. He remembered to add jazz hands for effect. To his delight, that elicited a response.

Lisbon gave a cross between a snort, a chuckle and a giggle, covering it up with one hand immediately. Still, her eyes were twinkling.

"That's better." He smiled, straightening up. "You're much prettier when you smile."

For a moment, she frowned. Then she blushed, staring pointedly at her lap again.

He grinned, eyes crinkling up. "My goodness, Lisbon, is that a blush?"

"Hush." She murmured, blushing even darker as an answering grin bent her lips.

Jane took a seat next to her so that his body was tilted toward her so that he could still watch her reactions. Then he found himself unable to look at her. Silence settled around them as she examined her hands now in her lap and he stared at the bent grass near his feet. Only the soft din of the nearby carnival could be heard and with it as a background, he felt some of his tenseness slip away. She wasn't outright yelling at him, or forcefully shoving him out of his seat yet, so he had some hope. He swallowed and did the one thing he struggled with the most, because she was worth it. "Hey, um... I'm sorry." He looked up at her, she looked up at him, and for a brief moment, their gazes met.

Her hurt expression returned, watery eyes pouring the feeling of betrayal straight down into his heart. She seemed to be seeking truth, wondering if he was being sincere.

He'd never felt such a searching, stripping gaze before- like his whole life was suddenly laid bare before her and he was powerless to change it. For some reason, he suddenly had the irrational certainty that he was naked and looked down to make sure it wasn't true. When he glanced back up, she was nodding her head.

"Yeah, okay." Her voice was choked.

"I just..." He flailed, something he was unaccustomed to.

She looked up at him, hurt replaced by sadness now.

He sighed. She was his undoing, and there really was nothing he could do about it. He'd try anything to get that look off her face. So he told a painful truth. "I just wanted to impress you."

Lisbon frowned. "By insulting my...my-" She blushed again and shrugged that away.

Jane let it go and chuckled morosely. "Not my best decision ever, I'll admit."

She paused a moment, considering, then fiddled with the hem of her dress as she spoke in a barely audible whisper. "Why were you trying to impress me?"

He swallowed audibly, a little thrown. After a deep breath, he braced himself. _Here goes._ "B-because maybe... maybe Mashburn wasn't completely wrong."

Her eyebrows tilted in confusion.

"Maybe... maybe I like... you- you know... some." He wouldn't say the word crush, but trying not to was turning him nonsensical. "I...like hanging out with you... and maybe I was a little-" The tumble of words stilled. God, he couldn't say it.

"Jealous?" It was softly spoken.

He rolled his eyes a little, trying not to show that she'd hit the nail on the head. "Well, now, that's just hurtful."

She smiled crookedly. "That didn't sound like a denial."

It was his turn to blush.

Lisbon was quiet for a while. "Maybe... that's kinda cool."

Startled, Jane looked up at her.

She was wringing one hand with the other slightly, obviously nervous. "Maybe, I like hanging out with you too."

His heart skipped a beat before soaring into his throat. Suddenly feeling flushed, he stood up hastily. "Speaking of... where is '_Walter'_?"

She gave him a playful glare. "I don't know and you know it. I lost him when I left the tent. That's what you intended, wasn't it?"

He put his hand over his heart like she had wounded him. "Lisbon, I would never intend for you to be left here alone, especially dressed in something so gorgeous."

Again, the wide blink.

Was she really that unaccustomed to being complimented? Did she really not know how breathtaking she looked in that dress?

"Hush." She finally muttered towards her feet, standing up beside him. "You're kind of a hard friend to have, you know that?"

He grinned, glad she was feeling better enough to tease him. "Well, let me make it up to you."

She gave him an appraising look. "How?"

"I could buy you a hot dog all for yourself. Or a burger, or an ice cream cone." He reached into his pocket and withdrew car keys. "Or I could give you a ride home, since yours is busy."

Her eyes caught on the keys, recognizing them. "Where did you get those?"

"Lifted them off Walter when he wasn't looking." He answered flippantly, shrugging.

"Jane." Lisbon scolded, shocked.

"Eh." Jane waved her off. "He doesn't mind. Besides, I told some friends to look after him till I got back. Trust me, he'll enjoy himself."

Still she hesitated.

"It's just a loaner, I'll give 'em right back. It's not like you like more than an hour drive from here." He put his hands in his pockets nonchalantly. "Of course, if you want to walk all the way-"

"Fine." She growled. "But you had better return those." Her finger pointed towards his chest for emphasis.

"Great." He answered brightly, already reaching around her to usher her away. "So- which expensive one is it?

:)

Jane pulled the corvette in front of the indicated house smoothly, letting the engine purr its idling into the evening air while Lisbon stepped out and shut the door.

Her house was a tiny little thing, a pale blue or gray color. He spied the front light on and the flickering of lights against the drawn front curtains, maybe from a TV.

"Thanks Jane." She said, leaning back in against the door slightly to be close enough for only him to hear her.

Her brothers must be home. Maybe even her father too.

He gripped the wheel and resisted the urge to pry. They'd been through enough tonight and that dress was making it hard to think straight. "Not a problem, Lisbon." He murmured, suddenly awed by the way some of her wind-swept hair, pulled from it's tie, trailed over her jaw and exposed collarbone.

She smiled at him, soft dimples and all. After she pulled away and was half-way up the front walk, she suddenly turned back, walking backwards as she called out. "By the way... if we ever do get past you making an ass of yourself... my name is Teresa."

His heart stuttered to a stop and he knew his face had suddenly gone completely slack.

Her chuckle could be heard even from where he sat. After she had disappeared inside with a devilish little smirk, he touched his chest in shock to be sure he was still alive. He almost felt dizzy.

And her impish grin... the little minx. She knew exactly what she was doing. Didn't she?

Smiling wide- stupid-in-love came to mind- he put the car into drive and sped away. As the wind increased with his speed, he tilted his head, relishing the way the air swept past him, through him, inside of him, even if it was a bit chilly. He didn't care. All he wanted to do was stand up in his seat and shout up towards the sky.

Jane had learned the meaning of temptation, the meaning of joy, and iridescent happiness.

Her name was Teresa.


	16. Exhaustion

Author's Note: My poor readers. My life beats the crap out of me and you pay the price. :( To those that are still hanging in there- kudos. I know it's really hard sometimes. Especially when an author goes... a month?! Has it really been a month? More? Wow, now I feel even worse. I guess hospitals just don't inspire me that much. If it's any consolation prize, since this chapter was so hard to figure out how to start, I've now got the beginnings of several more chapters in line. Yay?

Again, thank you for your patience.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist and would not be foolish enough to claim to.

Jane dropped down into his seat, too tired to even sit up straight. His bag fell unceremoniously from his limp shoulder, taking his jacket half-off with it, but he didn't care. He couldn't make himself care.

It was Monday morning, the usual pre-Wainwright class roar washing over him without its usual effect. To see the final end to the carnival weekend was a relief, but three days of playing the con of good little psychic boy had taken it's toll and last night had been the worst of all. Everyone always rushed toward his booth on Sunday nights, like they had seen his booth before, weren't sure they wanted to spend the money, and then ran to get it in before the opportunity passed by.

Why, oh why did he live in the era of procrastination? Nothing needed to be done today what could be put off till tomorrow, at least to everyone around him it seemed. He supposed he didn't have any room to think such thoughts though. He leaned forward and put his forehead down on his desk, letting the cool lacquered wood sooth the tension headache ripping its way through his skull as much as it could. A sigh left his lips.

Someone above him chuckled. "Tired?" The amused voice asked.

He'd know that voice anywhere, so didn't bother to hide the grumpiness the chuckle caused. He lifted his head just enough to see the small smile curling Teresa's lips to the left, eyes peeking out at him around her silky dark hair and sneered.

Her smile widened.

His stomach flip-flopped and an answering grin snuck its way onto his face before he even realized it. "Me? No, 'course not." A wide yawn made his sarcasm plain.

She laughed lightly. Sliding past, Teresa slid her bag to the floor and sat in her seat.

Not able to help himself, Jane followed her with his eyes, a tiny smile of appreciation tilting his whole face upward.

She was dressed in a black tank top with the name of a band on the front and a dark red over shirt which had it's sleeves rolled up to her elbows. The layered effect looked even better on her than it usually did on him. Down at her feet, next to the ratty old shoes he usually saw her in, her jacket was sticking slightly out of her bag. She shoved it aside and pulled a notebook out before looking at him again. "Rough weekend?" She asked, raising a teasing eyebrow. "Can't imagine what you could have done. Sit in a booth for a few hours? Conned some people out of their money?"

He gave her a mock glare. "That's just insulting."

She snorted and rolled her eyes a little at his melodrama. Clearly, she enjoyed being teased as much as she enjoyed teasing.

That made two of them.

Having spun about in his seat, Jane sat back against his desk, ignoring the way it dug into his spine for the view such a position afforded him. He yawned again, then widened his eyes excessively and shook his head to wake himself up.

Teresa fought off a yawn of her own, now the one glaring at him for doing that to her.

"What about you?" He asked, ignoring the look. "Have a good rest of the weekend?"

Her face fell just slightly and she ducked her head to hide it.

He noticed anyway.

"Not bad." She hedged. Noncommittally hunching her shoulders up and then letting them drop, she gave him a tiny smile. "You gave Walter back his car though, right?"

Deciding to mess with her a little, he shrugged. "I may have taken it for a little joy ride-"

Her wide eyes were more than worth it. "Jane!"

"Re-lax, Lisbon." He drawled, stretching backward and closing his eyes. "I got it back to him in one piece. He even thanked me."

"Thanked you." Incredulous, she said it as a question.

"No folk like Carny folk." He grinned. "Trust me, he had a good time." He opened one eye to peek at her.

Teresa looked slightly mollified by his assurance. Up front, Wainwright finally got the class to quiet down so they could get started, so they both turned their attention up front, though reluctantly. Her foot settled on the back of his chair though, making him grin lazily in a way that had nothing to do with the subject of the class.

After that bell rang to signal the end of the lesson, Jane stood, already feeling sleepy again and trying to fight it off. He woke up though, when he saw Summer glare balefully at Cho as he grabbed her elbow and pulled her to the back of the classroom for an intense, whispered conversation. Nervously, he looked back at Teresa and decided- now was as good a time as any. "What's with them?" He asked her quietly.

She followed his flippant thumb toward the arguing couple and frowned. "Uh, it's nothing."

He scoffed slightly and leaned toward her across her desk. "What... you really think that's going to work?" He hoped his whisper still conveyed his disbelief. To appear more non-threatening, he shyly stuck his hands in his pockets. "Come on, Lisbon. I just want to make sure there's nothing that I can do to help."

At that, Teresa raised her eyes from shoving things in her bag to frown directly at him. Looking uncertainly between him and the two now disappearing out the door, still arguing, she finally sighed and shrugged. "I don't think there is. They're probably just arguing about the same old things."

He ducked his head to try to follow her eyes questioningly as she looked away.

Another, growled sigh left her. "Summer's got a lot on her plate." She was muttering into her collar, placing a workbook into the depth of her backpack thoughtlessly. "Problems, you know? Her step-dad owns the Red Sky- that crappy bar downtown? Only... it's not really a great place to hang out at by yourself. Especially if you're young and kinda pretty." Her nose wrinkled and her lip curled up in distaste as a far off look replaced her embarrassment. Then she looked at him, obviously trying to see if he had caught her drift.

He had, and he tried not to think about Teresa waiting outside that bar for her dad all on her own any more than he was about Summer doing the same. Both thoughts made him feel a little nauseous.

"Its just temporary custody." Teresa hurried to add. "She's got a dad who's actually pretty nice, but the courts sided with her mom. And he can't really fight the decision right now cause Summer's got a little sister that's been in the system for a few months now. He's trying to get the girl out first, before-" There was a lull as Lisbon trailed off, zipping her bag closed, trying to pretend like she was talking about something flippant while her shaking hands gave her away.

"So, if her dad is pretty nice... does that mean her mom and step-dad aren't?" He asked even more quietly, even though they were now alone, keeping his tone just insistent enough to get her to keep talking.

"No, her step-dad's not so bad. It's just... he doesn't really know how to be a dad and he doesn't realize what a dive his place really is, or the kind of people that sometimes pass through it."

"And her mother?"

Lisbon looked sheepishly in the direction Summer had gone, biting her lip uncertainly. "Let's just say, I've seen alley cats do more to protect their kids from the people they hang out with."

He swallowed, looking toward the door too. He had asked. He'd wanted to know. Sometimes though, he wished he didn't have such an insatiable curiosity.

"Cho's sort of... overprotective." Teresa swung her bag onto her shoulder.

"That's why they're arguing?" He asked softly as he followed her out into the packed and noisy hallway.

She hesitated again, chewing on her lip and looking over her shoulder.

Jane decided to play his ace. "I saw them at that bar again a couple nights ago. Some guy was yelling at her and Cho decked him. Then she was yelling at him."

She eyed him, but now seemed resigned. "Cho's got it in his head that Summer needs a 'White Knight'. That she needs protecting, all the time. From everything."

"Let me guess- it was kind of nice at first but now she feels smothered." He smiled slightly to show he wasn't trying to judge.

"She thinks he doesn't trust her." She admitted. "She thinks she can take care of herself. She's _used_ to taking care of herself. To her, he's always butting in, trying to tell her what to do." She sighed. "I gotta say, I kinda agree with her. Cho doesn't really think before he acts sometimes and he tends to deliver his 'brand' of justice a little harshly." A grimace passed over her features, as though she were remembering something unpleasant. "He wants to get her away. Says her dad's never gonna come for her, but that just pisses her off more." They arrived outside her next class and she turned to him. "So they fight about it. Really, Jane, there isn't much you _can_ do. Doubt anyone can. We hang out together outside when I'm at the bar and Cho's there as often as he can be, but he's got troubles of his own too. This stuff isn't helping. Honestly, I think they're a little bad for each other right now, but they'll either work it out or not on their own."

He grunted noncommittally.

"Stop worrying so much." She teased. "Cho's blunt, but he's smart. And Summer thinks he's cute. He usually knows how to talk her into forgiving him. Besides, Boy Wonder, you've got your own problems to deal with." She said the last brightly, giving him a devilish smirk.

His heart skipped a beat and started hammering against his ribs. What did she mean? He frantically thought over what he had said, what he might have let slip. Outwardly, he tried to remain calm. "Oh? Like what?"

She leaned toward him, still grinning. "Well, _me_ for one."

He swallowed.

Glancing to the side at a large clock on the wall, her eyes started to dance with barely contained mirth. "And you're gonna be late to your next class for another."

Blinking owlishly, Jane spied the time displayed on the clock as though he was coming up for air. He immediately cursed and spun to start sprinting down the seemingly, suddenly empty hallway. He spun again to run backwards before he reached a corner and yelled back at her. "You're a cruel woman, Teresa Lisbon." He rolled her esses into zees, drawing the new and unfamiliar first name over his tongue longer than necessary when it created a buzz through his system. A laugh bubble up out of him when he caught the barest shiver and shock pass over her frame. Spinning back around, he had to fight not to stumble, he felt so dizzy with glee.


	17. Loss

Author's Note: I'm finally better! Score. Prepare yourself for better... or at least faster, updates. And have no fear, I never leave anything unfinished.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist and would not be foolish enough to claim to.

Third Period Art was so charged now, he wanted to laugh. Instead of Teresa being oblivious to him up at the front of the class and he silently trying to keep his eyes off her and on his work, things had changed.

Their eyes kept meeting over their easels, grinning at each other like fools before looking away in a hurry, abashed by their own reactions. He couldn't stop smirking even when he looked back at his work. The slight blush that passed up her cheeks every time was too adorable. He could barely concentrate on the expanse of white paper before him. Cradled in his fingers, the soft, brittle charcoal he was still working with was almost warm to the touch, just waiting to rub more of it's black mark on the paper.

Frankly, he couldn't help himself. She reminded him the of the material too much.

Dark swathes set in slight curls stained the paper, meant for her hair. Deep, penetrating jabs for her eyes, nose and mouth. The way her shoulders sometimes slumped with shyness. Her ears... he paused. He'd never actually seen her ears. He looked up again and caught her looking at him too.

She peered back at her work furtively.

He grinned, a warmth wrapping around his insides. Right. Ears hidden by her hair it was. He added ears to the mental list of things to learn about the fascinating creature at the front of the class, mindlessly trying to get his marks to look anything like her.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder and jumped a little in shock. He'd been too distracted to even notice anyone come up behind him.

"Patrick." Mrs. Frye bent to whisper near his ear, her curly hair tickling his cheek. "We have few rules here. But, usually I discourage people from even trying to draw their classmates. It helps keep bullying to a minimum."

He flushed, but put on his best smirk, peering at the pretty woman out of the corner of his eye. "You think it actually looks like someone?"

His art teacher leaned back away a little and squinted at the paper. Her voice remained at a quiet murmur. "Well, I'll admit, if I hadn't seen for myself that you haven't taken your eyes off my TA for the better part of an hour, I probably wouldn't know who it was. However..."

"Then no one else needs to know, right? My drawing isn't hurting anybody." He reasoned, looked up at her.

She narrowed her eyes at him. Not quite a glare, but not exactly friendly either. Quite suspicious actually.

"I'm not the bullying type Mrs. Frye." He assured her, and looked back at Lisbon, heart swelling again. "Nothing could come close to the real thing anyway."

That clearly startled Mrs. Frye. She stared at him wide-eyed.

It had the same effect on him. He stared at his paper for a moment. Then he blushed, wondering what on earth had made him say that. He never had this problem before he'd met Lisbon.

The hand returned to his shoulder momentarily. "Next time, pick another subject please. However tempting it may be."

He nodded, taking the concession without further comment. He didn't want to make a complete idiot of himself. His embarrassment was sharp, like an icicle in his lungs, but when he looked up and Teresa's lips tilted in another embarrassed smile, he felt the feeling flee faster than it had arrived.

:)

Lunch was just as noisy as usual. Jane stood near the entrance to the cafeteria, looked over the crowd. Rigsby and Cho were talking to each other, though he had no idea what those two could have in common. Van Pelt was laughing at another jock, the O'laughlin kid he recognized from his first period and Rigsby's football team doing some kind of weird face in her direction.

James wasn't anywhere in sight.

Jane peered among the people, but couldn't spot him. Which was odd, because they'd gotten into a routine of sitting together every day at lunch and James usually beat him there. He turned and almost ran straight into who he'd been looking for.

Lisbon's little brother didn't do more than glance at him, before moving over to their table and sitting down a little stiffly.

Confused by his behavior, Jane followed. Slowly, he took the seat across from the kid, letting his tray slid into place without looking away from James' face.

Because there was a split in his lower lip. It was scabbed over, surrounded be a deep color of blue. A bit of a bruise.

It looked painful.

Sure enough, James grimaced as he took a bite of his food and his spoon scraped against the healing cut.

Rubbing his hands down his jacket front, Jane cleared his throat. "Uh, hey-"

Blue-green eyes looked up at him.

He felt awkward. Wanting to know more about what had happened was a lot different than asking, especially as he wasn't sure if asking would make things worse or not between them. He didn't want to alienate the kid and it wasn't just because he liked his sister. "You okay?" He finished lamely.

An odd, dismissing tilt of the kids head was his answer.

His next breath was both a sigh of relief and frustration, not that James seemed to notice.

They both turned their attention back to their food.

Abruptly, it dawned on Jane why Lisbon had seemed to hesitate this morning when he'd asked about the rest of her weekend. Obviously it had been anything but good. Not if her little brother looked like that.

A flash of fear shot through his insides. Did Teresa have a bruise like that? Maybe somewhere he couldn't see? His stomach curdled at the thought of her hiding something that painful. He tried to think back on their morning exchange and their art class. Had he missed something? Had she tried to tell him? Or had she specifically been hiding anything?

It made him feel sick to think that he had missed something like that. He pushed his tray of food away, barely eaten. His appetite had fled. He needed to find her. Talk to her. Make sure she was okay. He looked around. Like usual, she was nowhere to be seen. That left only..."James."

The kid looked up at him again. "What?"

"Where does your sister eat lunch?" He tried to keep his tone from showing his panic.

Surprised, James sat back a little. "She usually goes to Tommy's school."

Jane blinked. "Every day?"

James shrugged, suddenly looking a little uncomfortable. "Close to it. Tommy has some problems staying out of trouble. Reese bein' there seems to calm him down. Helps him get through the rest of the day without getting himself expelled."

Great. Jane deflated. Now he had to wait till their English class to get rid of this knot in his stomach. He dropped an elbow on the tabletop and tried to keep his disappointment off his face.

"It was something our mom used to do for us."

Looking up sharply, Jane almost thought he'd misheard. Neither of the Lisbon's usually talked about their home life, much less their mother.

Head tilted down toward his food, James murmured while picking at his plate. "She was a nurse and she was always really busy, but she'd take the time during her lunch breaks to come see us. Maybe sit with us in the car or outside. Even when Reese started going to a different school- she'd alternate. I liked sitting underneath the elm tree near the elementary school best. It was so... We'd sit in silence, or talk about anything. Always felt like we could talk about anything there. Like it was magical." The kid shook his head, as though shaking away his melancholy thoughts. Shaking her memory away, because it was too painful. "So Reese does that. So that Tommy has something like that too. He doesn't remember our mom much. He wasn't even in school, too young when-" He cut off abruptly. His hand released his spoon so it clattered against the tray. Just as suddenly, he stood up. "'m not hungry. I'll see ya later man."

Jane watched him go, aching keenly for his young friend. He knew what it was like, to lose someone so important to you. Whatever had happened to her.


	18. This side of the Rainbow

Author's Note: You all are awesome.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist and would not be foolish enough to claim to.

Where could she be?

Jane sat in his seat, eyes latched on the door, leg jittering at a fast tempo to keep himself from vibrating out of his chair. He'd just seen Lisbon this morning, he shouldn't be this nervous. At least, he knew he shouldn't. However, class was about to begin and there still wasn't any sign of her. He was starting to feel panic gripping his chest like a vice and frankly, that disturbed him just as much as her tardiness.

Usually, he was a very patient person. Usually, he could manage to control himself at least, but then again, he was normally able to think straight on a daily basis.

Nothing about this was normal.

Nothing about _her_ was normal either. Wasn't that why he liked her so much?

Now it was all topsy-turvy and confusing as hell. He was getting a headache- and where the hell was she?

Just when he was considering leaving his seat to go look for her, class and Hightower be damned, he saw her. The second Teresa walked through the door of the classroom, his eyes were roving over her, taking in every inch, assessing every movement. He looked up her worn jeans, her even more worn jacket slung over one shoulder, her dark hair falling like a cloud over her shoulders. Taking everything in and not missing a single nuance. The way she was walking, the way she moved. The way she smiled when she shifted and saw him. Looking for even a hint of a limp to her steps. A hitch to her breath. A grimace along her lips.

There didn't seem to be anything alarming and it was only when this thought passed through his mind that he remembered to breathe. He wondered briefly if maybe she was just hiding something very well, but he couldn't be certain. That frustrated him to no end.

Entirely too good at hiding for her own, this one.

As she walked past, Lisbon lifted an eyebrow at him questioningly and slipped into her seat. "What's up with you?" Her words, spoken quietly for his ears only, made him physically and mentally shiver, recalling her whispered teasing from earlier.

He wanted a rematch. "Nothing." He lied casually, turning to follow her. Carefully, he plastered on his best smile. "Have a good lunch with Tommy?"

Her eyelids moved in a slow blink- nonplussed. "What? How..."

His smile grew triumphant.

Teresa shook her head, a tiny little smile playing about her lips, leaning back in her seat and putting her foot up on his chair. "Nice guess, Boy Wonder."

"'Professor Marvel never guesses, he knows'." Jane said in a mockingly serious tone.

Her bark of laughter was enough to momentarily capture the attention of their nearest peers, including Van Pelt beside her.

It wasn't lost on Jane. Nor did he miss that when the redhead looked around and saw the two of them leaning close together, she just grinned and turned away again. The others followed her lead, seemingly unconsciously. He was grateful. As much as he loved being the one that managed to make Teresa laugh like that, he didn't want their conversation to end just like that. Not yet.

After all, they still had one minute before Ms. Hightower would begin and he planned to make full use of it.

He returned his eyes back to Lisbon's face.

"An 'over the rainbow' fan, are you?" Teresa's eyes fairly twinkled as she looked at him.

A goofy grin slid across his lips. She was dazzling, and that look was for him.

Not for the first time, he wondered just what this intriguing creature must think of him. She'd seen him as a psychic, as a classmate, as a friend. She had said she liked him.

Would she still, if she knew the truth about him. About why he was here in the first place?

He blinked, realizing she had asked him a question and probaly expected an answer. Shrugging one shoulder at her, he leaned in closer to her against the back of his seat so she could hear his stage whisper. "The Wizard of Oz- is a classic. No doubt. I'm surprised you know it well enough to recognize the quote though."

"Are you kidding?" She tilted her head toward the ceiling, still smiling even through her aggravation and amusement. "My brothers and I used to watch it all the time. They always wanted to see it over and over again. It got to where we could repeat the whole movie verbatim." Her smile slipped slightly and she shook her head morosely. "My dad won't even let it in the house now."

He tilted his head, thinking about James' split lip and feeling the happiness in his chest dim. "How come?" Though he asked, he didn't exactly expect to receive an answer.

Typically, she just shrugged in response and picked at a loose thread in her ratty jeans. "So, is that movie what inspired the 'boy wonder'?"

It was a distraction and a poor one, but he let her have it for now. He chuckled. "Not exactly. The first time I actually saw that movie I'd been working the 'boy wonder' angle for almost a year. My dad worked the mid-west carnival circuit for several years when I was a kid, you see. I guess it just sorta fit the lifestyle. Annie always did want a psychic in the show booths." Why was he telling her all this?

"Did your... colleagues teach you to read people like that then?" She was all curiousness, obviously intrigued.

"Who says I needed it? I could just be the greatest psychic you've ever seen." He grinned at her cheekily.

She snorted and dug the tip of her shoe into his leg through the hole in the back of his chair. "Smart-alack."

"Not to say the carny life isn't very educational." He granted. Where else would he have learned how to pick-pocket an easy mark and crochet the niftiest sweaters in the county?

"Oh? How so?"

"You pick things up." Jane said noncommittally, grinning at her interest despite a sudden drop in his good mood. "You'd be surprised how well I can swallow fire, thanks to Kale."

"Sounds like you never lack for interesting company." She chuckled, the corners of her eyes actually creasing in humor.

He made an attempt at a smile, his good mood leaching somewhat, though he couldn't tell why. "No, I really don't." His lips compressed on any other information that could pour out of them unsuspectingly.

What was he doing? He needed to stop talking before he said something revealing. Thankfully, Hightower started the class then and he was able to turn around in his seat. For the rest of the class, he tried to put it from his mind- to put her from his mind. Not that he was very successful with that.

What would she say if she knew the truth? Would she hate him?

Teresa seemed to notice he was unusually quiet as they walked together to her next class afterward. She put a gentle hand on his forearm, stopping them near the threshold. "Hey, you okay?"

He started a little and looked down at her slender fingers in surprise, having let himself get distracted. The thoughts tumbling around in his brain ground to a halt. Her fingers were still soft, both delicate and tough in a way he couldn't quite understand. His eyes trailed back up to hers, emerald orbs shimmering with concern. He shrugged as nonchalantly as he could, nodding and clearing his throat. "Sure."

Teresa raised an eyebrow at him, disbelieving.

He grinned, despite himself. He adored the way she did that. He adored her. Everything about her, from the dark semi-curls of her hair to the concern now in her eyes. It amazed him how could she care about him when she really knew nothing about him. It filled him, in a way he had grown so unaccustomed to, he almost gasped at the alien feel of it all. Dangerous or not, revealing or not- He found he wanted her to know him. Wanted her to see things about him no one else had ever bothered to see.

A strange thought came to mind as a result. It would be a tightrope walk on his part, but what bit of his life wasn't right now? "You... you wouldn't want to meet some of them, would you? At the carnival, I mean?"

Clearly startled, she let her hand drop back down next to her leg and stared at him. "Really?" There was a blunt surprise in her voice, making it an octave higher, so she cleared her throat hastily and modified her tone down lower. "Really?"

He nodded, grinning again, this time more broadly. "Yeah. Their still doing clean-up right now and I'll bet they'd love the distraction." He chuckled, warming to the idea more and more "You'd love Daisy."

Grinning back at him, she appraised him studiously. "Who's Daisy?"

"You'll see."

Mockingly distrustful for a moment, suddenly her face changed, taking on a stricken expression. "I- I can't."

He peered at her questioningly.

Her lips pressed together, mouth askew. "Tommy. Drew." She said by way of explanation.

"Life. You." He said testily. "James can watch them for a little while. He's not irresponsible."

She gave him a look. "Seriously? I'd come home to World War Three. Besides, I pick up Tommy from school and Drew needs help with his homework, and dinner-"

"Come on, Teresa." He whined, purposefully using her first name against her. "They'll survive. When was the last time you did something just because it might be fun? You're a kid. Act like it."

She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly not swayed by his charm or his wheedling. A beat passed as she looked him over, but he could see it. The corner of her mouth was already lifting.

Alright, maybe a little swayed.

"After school, one hour, all right? Not a minute more." She shoved him a little. "Patrick." Then she disappeared into her class, leaving him looking after her in with a satisfied and smug expression.

:)

Once the bell rang, releasing them all from their very last class, Jane was able to find Lisbon among the crowd easily. Which, in a overly jam-packed school hallway, was remarkable in and of itself. She hadn't seen him yet and she obviously wasn't expecting anyone to be looking at her. Not crunched up in a corner near the lockers like she was. Half of her face was hidden by her hair, but he could see enough to know she was glaring and openly.

Following her gaze curiously as he got closer, he spotted a girl at the other end of the hallway that was clearly the recipient. She was a dark-skinned, dark-haired beauty. Exotic. Her skirt showed off a lot of her long legs and there was an arrogance about the way she held herself that was immediately evident. She was leaning back, her spine pressed up against the lockers along the wall.

A young man with a twisted smirk creasing his lips had her caged in by one arm and she seemed to be enjoying the attention he was giving her. The two of them were talking and smiling, the boy handing over a gorgeous bracelet that might actually have been real gemstones. It was difficult to tell from where he was, with such distance between them.

Based on his attire, Jane wondered how the kid could have afforded such a gift. He looked back at Teresa again and noticed her eyes had grown hard to match her glare. It made him frown, not liking that steely look. At least when Lisbon glared his way, it was with an undercurrent of mirth. Amusement, maybe. This was... well, he'd never seen such a level of malevolence from her.

Looking back at the other girl, he gave her another once over, but still couldn't think of why his Lisbon would be so upset? It wasn't like the girl was a threat.

But then, why did Teresa look so- jealous of her?

There must be something, a background he was missing. An interaction he'd yet to understand, obviously. He couldn't help but shake his head at his pale-skinned firecracker.

Teresa really had no idea just how beautiful she was. How mysterious and intriguing. How kind and forgiving.

Or much more he wanted to spend time with her, than with anyone else in the world. Jane rolled his eyes and strolled up to her side. "You shouldn't scowl so much, you know." He said nonchalantly, leaning against the wall beside her, startling her. "It makes people think you're not friendly."

Lisbon glanced a dimmed version of her scowl at him briefly. "That's because I'm _not_ friendly."

"Oh, don't give me that. You're one of the nicest people I know, Lisbon." He folded his arms across his chest and lowered his voice as she returned her gaze down the hall. "You just gotta work on all that pent up jealousy and resentment." He couldn't help teasing her a little bit.

Again, she glared at him, this time heatedly. "I am _not_ jealous."

"It's alright." He assured quietly, ignoring her growl and pretending he hadn't heard her. "I admit, I feel that way sometimes too. After all, why should everyone else get to have a normal life? Why do they seem to get everything they ever wanted, when we would settle for getting just _one thing_ that we've always hoped for?"

Hurt flashed across her expression before she could hide it.

It made him feel both glad and sad. He'd never want to see her hurt, but if she was hurting, he really didn't want her hiding it from him.

Teresa peered back down the hall, this time frowning in a longing sort of way.

For what, he didn't know, but his heart broke just a little for her. This on top of everything else and... James' split lip.

She deserved so much better than that.

They both did.

If the only way to get to the truth was to immerse himself in her misery, he'd gladly do it. Perhaps it would distract him from his own for a while. With a new appreciation, he followed her intense gaze to see that the girl was still there, now laughing lightly at something being whispered intp her ear. As though she hadn't a care in the world.

Happy.

Feeling a wave of unusual resentment rise up in him, Jane let his tone become bitter and shallow. "Why do they get love?"

Lisbon looked at his face quickly, a little stunned.

He wasn't surprised, he was stunned himself by his feeling. Raw and a little twisted. He saw the look- saw the sympathy flash across Teresa's expression- and for once, didn't try to hide how very much he sympathized with her too.

Maybe they weren't so different after all.

She smiled faintly then and lifted her hand to press a finger delicately against his brow. "Now we're both scowling." Shaking her head and chuckling morosely, she dropped her hand and pushed off the wall. Her hand snagged his shirt sleeve in passing to tug him along with her. "Come on, 'Toto', let's go before she starts singing or something."


	19. Heartbeats

Author's Note: I tweaked the last chapter a little bit, but nothing too significant, so if you don't want to reread it, it's not necessary. Just thought I'd mention it. Thanks to all those that are still reading and especially everyone who takes the time to leave a review. I read them all and they light up my day. I apologize if the last chapter was confusing for some, I just wanted to show that Lisbon probably envies other peoples happiness at this point quite a bit, longing for it herself and that Jane isn't immune either. It's something they have in common.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mentalist and would not be foolish enough to claim to.

Two and a half hours later, Lisbon was laughing.

The sun had gone down early, advancing autumn pulling it below the horizon before dinner time. They were surrounded by noise and people, far different from the school or even the carnival that had graced this very field only yesterday. Now the downtrodden grass was surrounded by open trailers and trucks, boxes and bags shoved into every visible nook and cranny. Gone and packed away were the bright lights and intense noisemakers. Instead, there was a fire and two dimming flood lights on the sides of different trailers to light up the festivities and chase away the night. On the air floated the sounds of a guitar and harmonica, songs of old and new repute adding a background beat that kept conversation going in the separate groups spread out in what remained of the carnival's sights.

Leaning near the fire, Benny was beating a rhythm against the ground that reverberated all the way through Jane's feet several feet away. The old man's fingers flew over the guitar strings so fast, they almost blurred and his aging smile creased the whole right side of his face in wrinkles. Moses, so named for the straight-edge part down the middle of his red hair, was patting his thigh in time as his bass voice rattled nearby eardrums and a woman named Lesley who normally handled the ring toss was adding her harmonica to add a counterpoint to the whole tune. It wasn't Mozart, wasn't pure thought and imagination, but it was like a heartbeat. Like life.

Like Lisbon.

It was the first time he had seen her so openly happy and carefree since he had met her. Her dainty feet had slipped out of her shoes at some point and were folded half up underneath her. She and Sam, Annie and an overweight kid named Pete who usually looked after the rides as a mechanic, sat around a circular table playing cards.

Her smile made her eyes sparkle in a way the made his heart stop. She shifted and his eyes flew down to her outstretched arm and back up, never leaving her.

He was staring again and realizing this, he fought off a blush. Glancing around surreptitiously to be sure no one noticed and letting his face cool, he noticed a figure making his way through the far edge of the group. It was Kale, the face of the carnival, the "ringmaster" so to speak- at least when Annie was feeling generous- and he was passing around beer and soda. This little impromptu shindig was starting to get rowdy. Everyone was enjoying the celebration of another profitable weekend in a new town. They'd worked hard and deserved it, but perhaps it was time to take Teresa home.

Looking back at Lisbon, Jane spluttered a snort, covering his mouth with a hand and trying to hide his reaction into his chest so he didn't make a scene. His chuckles melted into the background noise though, so he was free to stare.

His friend had a card stuck to her forehead. He'd never seen anything cuter in his entire life. She was casually flipping coins into the center of the checkerboard clothe of the table. Pennies, yes, but enough of them to amount to almost five dollars in all. Otto, the fire breather, had been kind enough to supply the change. Jane didn't pay it any attention though. It had been his main goal to see that she enjoyed herself while she was here and he was confident he had succeeded thus far. He wasn't a fool and neither was Teresa. She knew the carnies were taking her for all she was worth, but pennies were all that she had to her name anyway and it was all in good fun. Her going away with five dollars less than when she had arrived wasn't going to do any harm.

Sam caught his eye next to her and grinned cheekily at him, slipping a card down below the table and pulling another from her shirt. Little sneak.

Jane had been playing with them, but he'd had to quit when his staring at Lisbon and her shy smiles that sent shivers up his arms almost landed him on the wrong side of Sam's dealing. So now he watched and made sure the little girl didn't run off with the clothes of Teresa's back.

Serge, whose real name was Daffodil and whose knife throwing act had truly fascinated his Lisbon, was watching carefully from the sidelines too across the way. He had taught the small young woman some of his moves free of charge and smiled at her, something no one else had been entirely certain the man was capable of doing. When Jane had confronted him and asked why in a low voice, wondering what the man's angle was, he'd clearly and unapologetically stated in his gravelly voice that he liked her fire.

Pure and simple, he liked her. That in and of itself was an impressive feat. Serge didn't usually like anybody.

Watching Teresa smirk and flip another card down though, he wasn't at all surprised. What was there not to love?

Like, he meant like.

Shaking his head ruthlessly, Jane pushed off the wall. Slowly, he came up behind Lisbon and bent to whisper near her ear pleased with the way her own breath left her when he was so close. "We should get going. I'm sure the boys are wasting away without you."

She grinned up at him and nodded, turning a slight pout toward the others as she bade them all goodbye.

He helped her stand and slip her jacket and bag back on her shoulders, waving and speaking farewells as they went.

"Hold up, doll." Annie smiled, heaving herself up out of her chair. "I'll give you a ride home."

Jane narrowed his eyes at the woman, but she just gave him a wink and an almost imperceptible nod.

Was that approval he saw? Tut tut, even Annie wasn't immune to his friend's innocent charm.

Looking back at him questioningly, Teresa awaited his response. He was a little startled at that, then felt a surge of pride that she trusted him to look after her here. He nodded encouragingly for her to follow the older woman, guiding her forward with a hand at the small of her back.

:)

When Kale's truck pulled up to the front of her house, Jane jumped down and helped Lisbon from the back.

Her small hands settled on his shoulders, spreading her warmth through him so that he shivered. When his larger hands grasped her trim waist, he was more than glad of the dark night, because it hid his furious blush for him. He'd never colored so much in his life. She jumped down as he lifted her out and set her on the ground, unable to think beyond noting how tiny and compact she was. All slim muscle under his fingertips.

Teresa cleared her throat and it was only then that he noticed he was still holding onto her.

Hurriedly, he released her.

She smiled sheepishly at him, slung her bag over her shoulder and then met his eyes. Her own were sparkling. "Thanks Jane. I... I had a nice time."

"Anytime, Lisbon."

They both went quiet, a little awkwardly so, before Jane remembered something and quickly pulled a rumpled brown paper bag from the back of his jeans. The same one that Sam had handed him. Now embarrassed and feeling an unusual shyness burning up his throat, he held it out between them. "Uh, I got this for you."

She blinked, but took the bag from him and curiously looked inside. A gasped laugh left her lips and she reached in and pulled out the CD's inside, peering over the covers in amazement. "How..." Her eyes raised to meet his questioningly, like before, but this time with a heart-breaking edge of vulnerability to the green.

The first she'd ever intentionally showed him.

His breath caught in his chest, making his next words strangled. "Jazz. It's your favorite, right?"

She stared up at him in shock. "Y-You got these for me."

A crash from inside the house drew their attention suddenly, breaking the breathless moment into tiny little pieces.

"I better go." Teresa said worriedly.

"Yeah." He agreed, watching the houses windows curiously, wondering what Teresa would face when she went inside. After all, how much damage could three boys on their own do?

Suddenly, he felt lips against his cheek.

Lisbon was kissing his cheek.

He felt himself turn red, all the blood rushing away from his face and then just as quickly back. Somewhere in the back of his hearing Jane heard Annie snort and then whistle teasingly but beyond that, all thought escaped him.

Teresa pulled back, smirking at him while blushing gently and ran down the path. She waved then pushed open the door and disappeared inside.

Mind completely muddled now, he staggered back to the truck and climbed back onto the back.

Annie just laughed at him.

:)

It was such a relief to fall into bed that night. He literally just fell backwards onto his bed, fully clothed and utterly exhausted. He barely had the energy to lift his hand to run his fingers through his blonde curls and sighed deeply as the fatigued muscles brought his arm almost immediately back down to the soft covers beneath him. For a long minute, he couldn't find any energy to move in order to get ready to go sleep, he just lay concentrating on his breathing.

He was tired. He'd been tired for a while, but... but Teresa kissed him. On the cheek, yes, but he had had actual contact with her lips. It still had his limbs turning to butter.

It was late, Annie having taken him back to the party before bringing him home. The moon was providing the only light illuminating his bedroom.

At least, so he'd thought at first.

He squinted one eye open wearily when he realized there was another light shining on his face, coming through his window. Just barely, he rolled over and peeked out the panes to the grounds of the manor house.

The wing his bedroom was in ran perpendicular to another, both residential, so that he could see a wall of windows to the left, one such glowing faintly.

He sat up.

Mrs. Ruskin shouldn't still be awake. It was late. She had left him a note saying that she'd had dinner early and gone to bed.

A small thrill of fear raced its way up his spine, pulling him out of bed, which he hadn't even known was possible at this point. As quietly as possible, he slipped through the door and down the hall, turning a dark corner to head to the band of light shining beneath one door.

Presently, he realized he was hearing an unusual sound, and crept forward to press his ear to the wood.

Crying. Quiet but harsh, torn from elderly lips.

Carefully, he turned the doorknob and opened it a crack.

She was laying in bed, oblivious to him. A hand was clutched around something.

Unsure of what to do, Jane backed up a step. He wasn't... this hadn't been part of the bargain. Not this. His steps got him to the wall across the hall and he slid down it to the floor. He stayed there long into the night, silent and troubled. Just listening to the kind old woman sob.


End file.
